A Guide To Kissing
by Icebabe59
Summary: Sherlock and Molly through out the years and several different types of kisses. Pure fluff and AU.
1. A Kiss On The Cheek

**Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to BBC's Sherlock or Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes or anything like that.**

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Molly was only nine when the strange boy moved in next door. He was a few years older than her and he was moody and obstinate, his name was Sherlock Holmes. The first time he came over Molly almost hit him.

"What a stupid notion." He had said when she explained the pretend world that her dolls, and sometimes she, lived in. She went quiet very quickly when he said that because to her mind it was far from stupid to believe that in this world people never died and everyone was happy.

"Mum says that it is a sweet notion and perfect for my dolls, a safe and happy world." Molly parroted the words that had been told to her many times.

Sherlock continued to criticize her the entire time he was over at Molly's house. At one point she actually wondered if hitting him would actually make him stop his chattering for just a few minutes, but gave up on the thought when she walked out of the room for a few minutes and found him still talking when she came back. If it hadn't been for the fact that their parents became friends those two would never have seen each other again.

Molly's tenth birthday rolled around quickly after that first meeting and her parents had arranged the perfect party for her. Her favorite color being pink the back yard was decorated in appropriately colored streamers and balloons; her parents had even rented a bouncy house. When Molly first saw it that morning after she had eaten breakfast she could not imagine anything more perfect.

All of the children in the neighborhood were invited of course and this included the already infamous Sherlock Holmes. Among the children of the neighborhood he had acquired several nick names already the most harsh among them including "the freak." Perhaps not very imaginative, but what do you expect from a group of adolescents.

Sherlock knew very well the opinion of the neighborhood when it came to him, but when the invitation to Molly's party appeared on the door his parents said either he would go or they would confiscate his text books for the next month. So it all came down to a choice, either Sherlock could sit bored at a party for a few hours or a month of boredom where his own reading material was taken from him.

So that is how it came to be that on a sunny afternoon Molly was all smiles among the pink in her favorite pink jumper smiling and laughing as she celebrated another year of her life while Sherlock sat solitary in the furthest corner of the yard surrounded by his dark coat.

The children enjoyed jumping up and down in the blow up bounce house and Molly ran around as happy as ever. The cake was even brought out, cut and served with ice cream. Sherlock somewhat understood the social convention and even sat at the table for this part, mostly so that his parents wouldn't hear about him being unsociable.

After a few hours of fun the children got bored of the bounce house and gathered around Molly starting a game of truth or dare while the parents sat across the lawn talking amongst themselves. No one had bothered to invite Sherlock into the game, and that was alright by him. He sat at the table near the group, but just far enough away that he wouldn't be subject to a game he found so elementary.

No one noticed really except for little girl from the neighborhood though who was slightly younger than Molly. Her name was Sally; she was the one who had started the nick name freak. When it was her turn to pick on someone she looked over at Sherlock for half a second and then to Molly.

"Molly, truth or dare?" Sally asked scooting to the edge of the little lawn chair that had been set out.

"Um . . . truth." Molly stammered in a quiet voice.

The children all groaned saying that wasn't any fun for a few moments before Molly gave in saying she would accept a dare. Sherlock smirked a little as he heard Molly give into the peer pressure, but he had not expected what would happen next.

"Give him a kiss." Sally said nodding her chin towards Sherlock. Molly's eyes widened considerable as she looked from Sally to Sherlock and back again. Sherlock watched her carefully to see what Molly would do. He was close to two years older than her and as a twelve-year-old boy in school he had heard plenty of the boys talk about kissing, but the idea of someone kissing him was different.

Molly blushed more than she thought possible and looked at the ground hoping that her response wouldn't offend Sherlock. "I think I'll take that truth now." She muttered quietly. The kids around her protested, but she managed to hold firm and eventually the game moved on.

Sherlock was surprised, but not offended when Molly declined the dare, he felt that she would have liked to follow through with the dare even if that sort of thing really didn't interest him. He wasn't surprised however when she never asked for another dare through the remainder of the game.

Just after lunch time all of the kids went home, but Sherlock was asked to stay for a while since his parents and Molly's alike believed that the two spending some time together might be beneficial for the children.

Sherlock had heard his parents talking one night about how they were worried he was too antisocial and he could tell that Molly's parents were worried that their daughter was too withdrawn as well.

Molly knew what was going on when her parents insisted that Sherlock stay over, but she didn't care. She may not really like him, but she had a feeling that one day Sherlock would be a great friend to her.

However she began to second guess her feelings when they were in the family room with her looking over her new toys. Sherlock was being as obnoxious as ever so she decided to tell him as much.

Sherlock immediately stopped talking when Molly snapped at him. She had never been so abrupt in anything she said to him and she had always stuttered. This time though as she told him that she thought he was being obnoxious –quite a big word for her he thought- her voice rang out high and clear.

"I'm sorry." He mumbled looking down at the beige carpet he was sitting on. He did feel bad for annoying Molly. "That wasn't my intention; I just thought it would be kind to point out that that gift is not appropriate for you."

Molly smiled, he was right of course, the small chapter book was far below her reading level, but she believed in the theory that it is the thought that counts.

"It's okay Sherlock, just from now on smile and say that is nice or something okay?" Molly's smile was back but her stutter was not. Sherlock's response was to nod and follower her advice absent mindedly for a moment while he was thinking.

"Why didn't you kiss me when Sally dared you to?" He asked quietly after about two minutes looking at Molly trying to make eye contact.

Molly made eye contact for just a split second before ducking her head back down to look at her presents from the day.

"I-I just di-didn't." She cut her self off abruptly when she noticed she was stuttering again. Would it be too much to ask just to be able to talk to him? She took a deep breath before trying again. "I figured you would rather I didn't."

Sherlock looked at Molly he had honestly been curious. Human nature was still something he was learning and with some people the only way to learn is to ask questions.

"I think I would have been okay with it." He responded quietly and watched as her head snapped up and he finally looked at him.

"Mom says I am too young to be kissing boys anyway." Molly set aside the doll she had been looking at though and moved so she was sitting next to Sherlock instead of across from him.

Shrugging Sherlock looked away for a moment but then turned back to her pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. "Happy Birthday Molly Hooper."


	2. A Kiss On The Hand

**Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to BBC's Sherlock or Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes or anything like that.**

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By seventeen Molly had been on her fair share of dates and had enjoyed every single one of them with the exception of one particularly disastrous date with a very persistent young man. However even with her experience with member of the opposite sex her shock when Sherlock asked her on a date she nearly fainted.

While getting ready for said date Molly remembered the conversation. She did not in a million years want to forget his endearing nervousness and she was sure the thought would always make her smile.

Sherlock had simply appeared outside of Molly's bedroom door that morning, as quiet as a ghost. His simple blue shirt slightly wrinkled, like he had slept in it, which was a possibility, and his trousers showing the bunch marks around the knees showing that he had been sitting down for a while before he came over. Him simply showing up like this was nothing new though because he had done that before. The two may have had a bit of a rocky start, but after the birthday party all those years ago, the two became fast friends.

Sherlock, ever the gentleman, always waited for Molly to invite him into her room before he walked through the door. As she did this time she set aside her copy of _Great Expectations_ she had been reading and moved her feet closer to her body to make room for Sherlock on the bed. She noticed his hair look more out of place than normal like he had been running his hands through it, and he was shaking just a little.

"You look nervous today. Is everything alright?" Molly was concerned. Even around her, Sherlock generally kept a cool façade, so for her to be able to read his expression was unusual and worrisome. Of course there was some times that Molly to tell what Sherlock was thinking, but that tended to be only at extreme emotions.

Sherlock tried to wave it off with his usual imperious hand gesture and he crossed to sit next to her on the bed, but he could tell he wasn't fooling her at all. So with a sigh he plopped down onto the foot of her bed so that their bodies formed a sort of human t with him bracing his back against the wall.

They sat in silence for long enough that Molly decided that her book really was more interesting then the plaster patterns in her celling, or the lines of nervous worry on his face. It certainly wasn't unusual for them to sit in silence for hours, and when Sherlock was thinking particularly deep about something Molly could even get away with propping her feet up on his lap, and she rather liked that. They had been sitting in a mostly composed silence for approximately twenty minutes according to Sherlock's best estimate when he finally felt calm enough to speak.

"I think we should go out." His choice wavered even though he tried his best to keep his voice low and even. He mentally cursed John for putting the idea of dating Molly into his head, he had been more than comfortable in the idea of being friends with her until John, his supposed best friend- had to suggest that there might be more to it all.

Molly's head snapped up. She tried to look at Sherlock, to meet his blue eyes with her brown ones, but he was seemingly busy inspecting the opposite wall. "I'm sorry what?"

"I was thinking perhaps sharing a dinner and some conversation would suffice." Cool and collected, that's what he was, or at least what he was trying to be. He still couldn't look at her, too nervous, so he continued facing forward, pretending to contemplate the wall.

Molly thought over the idea for a moment, mostly to tease him, and then smiled a bit. "I suppose that sounds like fun."

"I'll come and collect you at about six this afternoon then." Sherlock said sweeping out of the room so quickly that Molly got the impression he was running away.

Since he had not exactly specified where they were going Molly had settled on a silk green top that would fit with a casual setting or something a bit more flamboyant if need be. Then as she silently cursed Sherlock for not telling her where they were going, she paired it with jet black trousers and silver ballet flats, and then sat waiting for it to be time to go to dinner.

He was prompt as usual and even held the car door for her before they left. She did ask where they were going, but Sherlock simply refused to answer that question instead countering with his own about which book she planned to read next. How he knew that she had already finished her last book went way over her head, but she answered anyway. She hadn't though much about it yet.

He suggested a short list a books he considered perfect for the reading level she was currently at. It was a nice gesture from him, but Molly could tell that the conversation was forced and unnatural on his part. He often took interest in her reading, but rarely suggested books, usually preferring to tell her that she could easily read at a higher level if she would just apply herself. She was about to tell him that he did not need to make so much effort for a conversation, when they pulled up to a nice semi-formal restaurant, definitely not cheap.

"Wow Sherlock." She breathed as he helped her out of the car. Sherlock's only response was to smile and tuck Molly's arm under his then walk them into the building.

Dinner lasted about an hour and even then Molly wished she could have made it last forever. They had talked about a variety of things and neither of the participants in the conversation was at any point bored.

The ride back was almost awkwardly quiet however and Molly was uncertain what to do. Sherlock had been a perfect gentleman all evening, but she still wondered how the date would end, social customs and all if a date went well did dictate a possible kiss at the end of the night.

She was shaking like a leaf when they arrived at her front door, but she worked to keep her breathing even which would keep the shaking to a minimum. He walked her too the door and they were nearly there when he noticed this. She seemed nervous, more nervous than he had been this morning, but didn't quite understand why. John had made sure he knew about the social customs that went along with a date, but he was sure they were both uncomfortable with the idea of a good night kiss so it simply would not happen.

Then he found John's voice in his head telling him that if he did not do something then it would hurt Molly's feelings and ruin the chances of another date. So as a compromise instead he gently took her hand in his, then lifting it to about his chest level while bowing the rest of the way, he placed a light kiss to the back of her hand.

She was surprised and slightly nonplussed, but pleased none the less. His lips had barely brushed against her knuckled and it seemed so romantic she though her knees were going to buckle.

"Good Night, Molly Hooper." He whispered, his ocean blue eyes reflecting the lights on the front porch, making them bright.

He turned and left before she could respond, so she quickly ducked into her house and went up to her bedroom before either of her parents could question her about the date. As she wound down and put away her jewelry she decided a bubble back was exactly what she needed.

Sherlock was laying on his bed later that night thinking about the date. John had tried calling him twice already, but the phone sat unnoticed on the young genius' bedside table.

He let the pattern on the ceiling clear his mind and fill his visual cortex as he cataloged every detail. Only when he was finished did he check his phone and found that John had given up calling and had left a text.

So how did it go? You didn't do anything stupid right? –JW

Sherlock's reply was simple, but spoke volumes about how he felt, more in fact than most people would have though, though John knew better.

Everything is fine. -SH

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**This is just an Author's Note, and I hate these, so if you hate these as much as I do you can just skip this part, but I wanted to apologize for the fact that it has been a while since my last up load. I have started school again so I'm just getting back into the swing of things. Also I have good news, I'm getting a beta! So that's exciting. Also if anyone had any sort of kissing traditions they would be willing to share that would be amazing so just leave a comment and I will try to update again within a week!  
**


	3. A Kiss On The Forehead

**Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to BBC's Sherlock or Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes or anything like that.**

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About two weeks after their date Molly got terribly sick and had to stay home from school. Sherlock had been kind enough to offer, probably forced by his parents, to collect her school work for her.

The day had been long and dull, because daytime telly definitely wasn't interesting and Molly could not keep her eyes focused long enough to do any proper reading. Therefore much of her day while Sherlock was away at school was spent sleeping, though with her sinuses congested as they were, that was in and of its self a difficult task.

When Sherlock arrived at her house after school he found Molly fast asleep on the living room sofa and snoring just a little. Unsure what to do, he set her work on the coffee table figuring that she would find it there when she woke up.

While setting the papers down as quietly as possible he looked over and noticed Molly was sweating slightly, so whatever fever she had was broken. Covered in a heavy blanket though, he hardly figured she was comfortable, and he considered moving it, but in the end believed that Molly would wake up if she was uncomfortable. Then deciding her house was probably quieter than his, what with Mycroft and some of his friends from Uni visiting today, Sherlock made himself comfortable on one of the chairs near Molly and took the time to work on his own school work.

The work was stupidly easy as usual so as he worked Sherlock's mind wandered a bit and every few minutes he would realize that he was thinking more about Molly and less about the theory of Social Darwinism that applied to the worksheet in front of him. After about twenty minutes of this, Sherlock had finished the work and decided that walking around the house for a bit seemed like a decent idea; perhaps he could find something to interest his mind. Molly's parents seemed to be out of the house for some reason, and if the fact that they had left a can of soup out with instructions that indicated that they were not planning on being back until late.

Molly opened her eyes later that afternoon to find Sherlock sitting on the living room floor surrounded by papers and a few books. He seemed to be concentrating deeply so she laid still and watched him for a while. He really was interesting to watch if he was thinking about something quite hard, but not so much that he was retreating into his own mind.

He was muttering to himself so quietly that the only way it was possible to tell he was talking was the fact that his lips were moving and even then there was no possible way of distinguishing what he was saying as the words jumbled together. He kept running his hands through and then over his hair patting it down in a way that gave her the impression that whatever he was working on bothered him. He continued like that for a few minutes before he sighed and started shuffling through the papers closest to him. Then he glanced up at Molly in a gesture that had become familiar to him and was about to return his attention to what was in his hands when he noticed she was awake.

"Sleep well?" He asked setting his paper aside and sitting back a little to look at her.

"No." Molly replied. She was miserable and had been all the time she slept, not to mention that her dreams had been strange and confusing.

Sherlock nodded, and unsure what else to do leaned forward and busied himself cleaning up the papers around him. "I brought your school work, it is right here." He stood and picked Molly's work off of the coffee table, but then set it back down as he noticed how worn she still looked. "There wasn't much, just Literature and Chemistry."

Molly sat up and leaned against the arm rest of the sofa as Sherlock spoke. "Thanks, but I really can take care of that later. What were you working on?"

"Nothing important." Sherlock's reply was quick and to the point before switching the subject. "Your parents will be out for a while, but they left some soup if you are hungry."

"No," Molly shook her head a little too fast and had to grab her head between her hands to calm the ache, "No, I think I just want to stay still, maybe sleep some more."

"Would you accept a glass of water at the least? Maybe something for the headache?" Sherlock was somewhat out of his element, but did know that dehydration was common among people who develop a cold or the flu, and while the popular saying was 'drown a cold, starve the flu' it was generally incorrect.

Molly was surprised by the offer but nodded. "Both." She replied as she closed her eyes and relaxed against the sofa knowing that Sherlock could find everything on his own after years of practically living at her house as well as his own.

It didn't take him long, but by the time Sherlock got back with a class of water and pain killers for Molly, she had drifted off and was almost asleep. He gently nudged her awake and helped her sit up before handing her the medication and glass of water. He then sat down at the foot of the sofa where her feet had been, Sherlock watched her carefully for a moment and Molly did not fail to notice.

"So do you want to watch some telly or something?" Molly asked finding the remote tucked underneath the pillow she had been resting her head on just moments ago.

"Whatever you would like." Sherlock looked bored, but Molly knew he secretly enjoyed watching shows with her, even the day time soaps. So they sat like that for a while, Sherlock relaxed into his section of the sofa and Molly drifting in and out of consciousness.

When Molly was half asleep at one point she thought she caught Sherlock watching her, but as soon as their eyes met he blinked and looked away. This happened a second time and Molly brushed it aside, he could easily just be checking to see if she was actually asleep yet, but by the third time it could not be put off so easily.

"See something you like?" She teased. Blame it on the cold going to her head, but all she could really think about was how amazing Sherlock looked today. Sherlock's cheeks seemed to flush as Molly's did now and she silently chided herself for the rash comment.

"I just. . . you. . . Are you feeling better?" Sherlock stumbled over he words, definitely surprised by Molly's teasing.

"No," Molly smiled, "but maybe after I sleep some more I will." She kicked her feet out from under her and shifted the blanket around so that her feet were resting on Sherlock's leg.

"Well then sleep." Sherlock's newest reply came out stronger than the last and he even graced her with a smile before turning back to the television and Molly soon followed suit, and soon she was fast asleep.

It was late when Sherlock finally managed to make himself leave Molly's side. She was very solidly asleep and her parents had been home for a while so Sherlock just planned to let himself out.

As he got up off of the sofa though, Sherlock could not shake the feeling that he should at least attempt to say goodbye to Molly. So as she stretched out her legs to take up the entire length of the sofa Sherlock bent over her and placed a soft kiss to her forehead while whispering. "Sleep well, Molly Hooper."

As if she had heard him through the veil of her sleep she mumbled something that could have been a response before snuggling deeper into her blanket.

While walking home, Sherlock replayed that moment in his mind along with his favorite parts of their date.

"Sherlock Holmes, is that sentiment?" He mused out loud, to himself, as he reached his door. Well perhaps it was, but he liked the feeling.


	4. A First Kiss

**Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to BBC's Sherlock or Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes or anything like that.**

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At the end of that school year the school held its usual ceremony for those who had finished their secondary education, most of whom would be moving on to a university. Sherlock Holmes was obliged to attend with the rest of his year, but resented every moment of it.

Molly was ecstatic and had even helped Sherlock's parents plan a smaller celebration for him at his house. When he found out, Sherlock was less than enthusiastic, but knowing that it was customary and that Molly would enjoy the party he agreed to attend.

Molly was extremely busy when the night of the party arrived. Sherlock had been exiled to his room, not that he cared, and Molly had spent the better part of the day helping Mrs. Holmes clean and decorate the house.

While the celebration was meant to be small, it was elaborate and both Mr. and Mrs. Holmes had invited some very high ranking people to the party. The exact guest list was unknown to Molly, but she knew the Holmes' had powerful friends in high places.

Once the decorating was done Mrs. Holmes thanked Molly for her help and sent her home so that they both could 'dress themselves up' as Mrs. Holmes liked to put it.

Molly had been excited about the party and hoped that no matter what Sherlock would at least appreciate the effort that went into it.

It was nearly time for everyone to arrive when Molly had finished getting ready for the party. She had chosen to wear the same green top from her date with Sherlock over a month ago, but this time chose a nice knee length black skirt to go with it.

When she arrived she complimented herself on the outfit choice since Mrs. Holmes was wearing something of a similar fashion and then excused herself in order to collect Sherlock from his room. As she walked up the stairs she tripped a little, she was never really one for high heels, but the occasion called for it.

Finally at the door, Molly knocked gently and opened the door to find Sherlock kicked back on his bed already dressed in a formal three piece suit with a vest and tie. The white of the shirt contrasted nicely with the black of the suit and the entire outfit suited him perfectly, pun intended.

"People are going to start arriving soon." Molly announced in a quiet voice.

Sherlock barely nodded and for a while didn't look her way. Molly was familiar with this sort of behavior so she didn't think twice when she walked into his room and sat at the food of his bed waiting for him to return from his mind palace.

He only took about two minutes after Molly walked in to finish his thought process and shook his head slightly as he refocused his eyes from the middle distance and onto Molly. She met his gaze easily and waited for him to speak first; she hated interrupting a comfortable silence.

"Is it time then?" Sherlock asked sounding somewhat bored.

"The party will officially start in about two minutes." Molly nodded and stood motioning for Sherlock to follow her.

He did, almost immediately, his feet landing on his carpeted floor with a soft thud. He straightened out his suit jacket as he stood and then offered his arm to Molly in order to escort her down to the party. As she accepted his arm she giggled a little and was rewarded with on of Sherlock's rare, honest smiles.

The party had officially only lasted for three hours, but as at every party there were a few people who stayed closer to five hours.

Molly, being more family than friend to the Holmes family, stayed behind to clean up and, since it was still relatively early in the evening, to watch a movie with Sherlock. He had even begrudgingly wagered to watch one of her favorite action movies with the stipulation that he could complain about the movie's inconsistencies with the realities of the laws of physics especially when it came to the explosives.

Molly had laughed when accepting the condition knowing that he would complain whether she agreed with him or not.

The two sat comfortably throughout the entire movie and Molly had even managed to press herself against Sherlock's side, tucking her feet to one side on the couch and tucking her skirt around her legs. Sherlock at first had been surprised by Molly's sitting position resting against him, but quickly grew comfortable with it and even moved to wrap his arm around her shoulders.

At one point in the movie there was on particularly, horribly, incorrect explosion leading Sherlock to start a rant about the difference between napalm and C4 that Molly had heard from him more than once. This situation then lead her to giggle a little at his antics, winning her a light scowl from the ever handsome man next to her.

"What is so funny?" He sounded slightly hurt, but Molly could tell Sherlock was really only teasing her.

"You," she giggled, "you say that exact same thing every time was watch this show."

Sherlock had to think about it for a minute but eventually had to concede. In all honesty he didn't object to the movie as much as he pretended to, but he had to object on principle. If he just sat complacently though any movie, even an action movie, Molly might start picking out romance movies and expecting him to watch quietly.

After that thought occurred to him: he didn't have much time left with Molly. His parents had given him a trip to Italy as a present and he was leaving tomorrow, only returning in time to pack up his clothes before leaving to his university in London. He would only be home for major holidays, and even then it was possible he wouldn't. After all, Mycroft rarely returned home while he studied at university.

Molly had been thinking about this for months now as well. Ever since she knew she would not get to spend her summer holiday with Sherlock, she had considered what it would mean for her, how she felt about it, and more importantly how she felt about Sherlock.

Growing up with Sherlock had made it impossible for Molly not to form a crush on him and that was difficult to handle when she considered that even if they had been out on one date she was pretty sure that he only saw her as a sister. When she added the fact that he would be leaving so soon, well . . . she tried very hard not to think about it, but Sally's words stuck in the back of her mind.

Sally, still one of Molly's friends after all this time, had told Molly that she ought to simply tell Sherlock how she felt and kiss him. Of course this idea also came with Sally's usual put down. "Why do you even like the freak?"

Sitting on the sofa with Sherlock right now she wanted to take Sally's advice, but had a difficult time gathering the courage for it. As she sat there trying to remember to breath she thought over all the times Sherlock had kissed her; first on the cheek when they were little, and on the hand when they went on a date.

The movie ended far too soon in the opinion of both parties on the sofa and Sherlock immediately missed the pressure as Molly extricated herself from him and stood up. He wanted to say something to her, he really didn't want her to simply leave the way she always did with a small smile and a "see you later, Sherlock!" like she usually did. Not when he wouldn't see her for a long time. He couldn't think of anything to say though and so stood with her and walked her to the door.

They both stood there for a moment looking at each other. Molly's heart was racing and Sherlock could feel something akin to adrenalin flooding his blood stream. And then all at once the mental connection between them grew and all but exploded as Molly threw caution to the wind and reached up wrapping her arms around Sherlock's neck, pulling him down towards her for a small, delicate kiss.

The kiss was brief, only lasting maybe a second, but it was long enough for Sherlock to recognize what was going on and accept the kiss, even to press towards her just a bit.

Then the kiss was over. Molly blushed and reached for the door. Already she wanted nothing more than to get home, to get away from this situation. She felt awkward. Was kissing him the wrong idea? It didn't feel like the wrong idea, it had felt nice in fact.

"See you around, Sherlock Holmes." She managed before closing the door behind her and walking home.

They both went to sleep that night hoping against hope that no matter what this would all work out and hardly slept at all.

Sherlock left the next day without a word to anyone. He simply got in the cab and drove away, still thinking about what the kiss they had shared last night meant to them both.

Molly saw him leave, and could not understand why Sherlock had not said good bye. No matter what the reason though she cried through the rest of the day and before she fell asleep that night.

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**Okay so this is just another author's note, feel free to skip. I just wanted to apologize for the late update, that shouldn't happen again, but last week I was miserably sick and just couldn't write. Anyway thank you for reading and if you have any ideas for another chapter feel free to leave it in the comments I am looking for any way to extend this story! So love to you all and see you next week!**


	5. A Kiss In The Rain

**Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to BBC's Sherlock or Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes or anything like that.**

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It was raining when Sherlock came back from the university on holiday. He had not expected it, but there was little he could do to control the weather. It was fairly early in the morning and his mother was awake and preparing breakfast.

As it turns out his father was still asleep with Jet lag from being in China on business yesterday so that reunion would have to wait until later in the day.

While she cooked his mother filled Sherlock in on what had been happening while he was away. Molly had started her last year of secondary school. That was the only piece of information Sherlock really processed though. After the kiss they had shared before he left Sherlock had not truly said goodbye, and he had not taken the time to call.

Would Molly agree to see him after that? His biggest fear was that she would be very mad at him for his actions.

Because this fear quickly became all he could think about, Sherlock functioned on auto pilot through the rest of the morning until he was sure it would be an appropriate hour to visit Molly.

Molly had woken up before the sun this morning, not that that she expected it to make an appearance today. The rain was the steady, calm rain that had a tendency to last for hours or even all day.

She knew Sherlock was supposed to be home today, but she didn't expect to see him. She had kissed him and perhaps that had been a mistake. She thought he had kissed her back, but perhaps that had been her imagination. Then of all things, he left without saying goodbye.

Molly had been hurt by Sherlock's actions. She had even ben mad at him at first, but soon she was more mad at herself than him. She shouldn't have kissed him, they could have stayed friends and maybe he would have said goodbye.

It had been half a year since then however and Molly had reconciled her feelings and while she still liked Sherlock more than she probably should and might always feel that way, she was working on being okay with it.

She was already dressed and ready for the day as the sun rose. Not long after six that morning she sat in front of her bedroom window, just watching the rain, when she noticed a cab pull up to the Holmes' house.

She saw Sherlock get out, it was easy to tell it was him with his long and lean body hidden under his regular coat, and her heart skipped a beat. He hadn't changed a bit. Even as she berated herself for it Molly could not help but notice his usual grace and how handsome he was. He had changed a bit though she noticed, his hair was long and the rain accentuated that as he began to resemble a half drowned cat while he gathered his luggage from the car and walk up to his front door.

Molly had to giggle a little at the image but sobered up quickly when she wondered if Sherlock would visit her or even if he wanted to. As she had that though she turned from her window and silently padded barefoot out of her room and to the kitchen. It seemed her family would be surprised to wake and find breakfast already made and ready to eat this morning. Molly was thinking pancakes.

It was nearly noon by the time Sherlock managed to excuse himself from his family. He desperately wanted to see Molly. He had taken the last year to truly think, practically obsess really, over what Molly kissing him had meant. He had of course considered the idea that she could have moved on, found herself a boyfriend. One who was probably loads better at being affectionate, who could be there for Molly. Sherlock hoped to high heaven that this wasn't true.

Molly had been staring out of her window again when she saw him. The rain had picked up with a new fervor and Sherlock turned his coat collar up against it, but hadn't bothered with an umbrella for the short walk. He looked almost nervous as he walked down the short stretch of pavement between the two houses and then up the walkway to her door, but even once the doorbell rang Molly couldn't move from her window.

Downstairs she could hear her mother greeting Sherlock and then calling her father. Then her father's booming voice joined her mother's soprano lilt and the all too familiar smooth baritone. She could hear the rain hitting her window now, the staccato notes punctuation the conversation downstairs. Her name was mentioned and then the voices hushed to a low murmur. Yes, Molly still did not turn from her window. The patterns created by the rain made the world outside beautiful.

She heard his footsteps as he walked down the hall to her bedroom. She stood frozen. Even as she heard her door squeak open she couldn't turn around, not until she heard him softly call her name.

"Molly?" His voice was soft, like a nice blanket. Only then could she managed to take her eyes from the trailing patterns on her window.

"Welcome back Sherlock. How was Italy? And uni?" She still couldn't quite meet his eyes and she just stood there kind of frozen.

"Take a walk with me?" He asked ignoring her question. Sherlock did not particularly want to have this conversation within the earshot of Molly's parents, even if it was raining outside, and particularly when he considered her ability to become flustered so easily.

Molly was taken aback by this offer and responded with a meek, "but it is raining."

"We will take an umbrella, I'm sure you have one." With that Molly was out the door, before she knew it, standing under an umbrella that Sherlock was so graciously holding.

"University is dull but the way." Sherlock said once they were outside, "and Italy was an interesting change for a while, but that's not really what either of us wants to discuss, is it?" Sherlock, as ever, had seen exactly through Molly.

"You left without saying good bye." Molly's voice was just loud enough to be heard over the rain as they walked down the street.

"Yes, I am sorry for that; I didn't act very properly did I? Forgive me?" Sherlock's eyes searched for Molly's. He really was sorry, there was no excuse for how he had acted.

"Always," Molly's answer was immediate, "Are we going to talk about. . ." She trailed off.

"Well I suppose, although I don't see that there is much to talk about." Sherlock replied nonchalantly.

"Oh?" Molly asked a little hurt by Sherlock's supposed nonchalance.

"Yes, well I can tell you don't have a boyfriend and from the way you have been mostly avoiding making eye contact with me so far you still fancy me. So that leaves one question, obvious really." Sherlock talked as quickly as he ever did when deducing someone and Molly had to wait a moment so that her head caught up with what her ears had heard.

"What is that?" Molly thought she knew the question, but sometimes she could be wrong.

"Will you be my girlfriend? I know I will be away a lot, and I'm not the most attentive when it comes to this sort of thing but. . ."

Molly heard this news and immediately understood what he was saying and so cut off his rambling. "Yes."

Sherlock was stunned into silence for a moment then licked his lips a little before answering. "Really?" Molly's replay was a nod as she truly met Sherlock's eyes for the first time. "Then may I?" Sherlock trailed off at the end of his question and brought his free hand that wasn't holding the umbrella to Molly's cheek, and unmistakable question in his eyes.

Molly slightly nodded her head, almost infinitesimally before letting Sherlock tilt her chin up and he pressed his lips softly to hers. The kiss was short, lasting barely more than a second, but it was enough to warm Molly more than her coat did.

She giggled a little as they broke apart. To be kissed in the rain was nearly every girls' fantasy was it not?

Sherlock of course looked at Molly quizzically but she just shook her head at him. "As lovely as this is I am very cold, think we could go back to my place and watch a movie or something? I'll make tea." She offered.

"Only if you will set next to me like you did the last time we watched a movie together." Sherlock, to Molly's surprise, was teasing her just a little. While he did honestly want to sit close to her for the rest of the evening, maybe even steal a few more kisses, he would hardly admit it. Molly nodded readily and they quickly returned to her house as the rain poured out around them.

As Molly made them both a cup of tea Sherlock pulled out his mobile and sent a quick text to his friend.

_You were right; everything went better than I had hoped. It was raining though, a slight draw back I should think. –SH_

The reply came less than a minute latter

_Marvelous. Bonus points actually for the rain. Girls love that stuff. –JW_

Sherlock did not hesitate when he replied.

_Why? –SH_

The one word answer that came back almost four minutes later told Sherlock not only that John was now busy on a date with his current girlfriend, but why Molly had giggled after their kiss this afternoon.

_Sentiment -JW_


	6. A Calming Kiss

**Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to BBC's Sherlock or Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes or anything like that.**

* * *

Two days after Sherlock arrived home for holiday he walked over to Molly's house early in hopes of surprising her. He was in a particularly good mood today. A young officer names Lestrade had contacted him the night before and asked him about a case. He had been right, eventually the police would realize they needed him.

So humming lightly to himself and near to floating with joy Sherlock was surprised to hear Molly yelling. He paused outside her door, and for a moment considered turning around, but scolding himself for being a coward he carefully opened the door, and promptly had to duck in order to avoid a high flying shoe.

Molly's back was to him. She didn't even realize Sherlock had appeared behind her as she dug through her closet. The volume of her voice fluctuated as she first mumbled to herself then practically yelling into the pile she was sorting through, and then back to a low grumble.

Sherlock stood watching Molly for a moment, at first unsure what to do. Then during one of her quieter spells he cleared his throat loudly, causing her to jump.

"Sherlock! What are you doing here?" She surprise just barely covered the distress in her voice.

"I thought I would surprise you. What are you doing?" He kept his voice as calm as possible, but he wanted to laugh. Molly was the cutest thing he had ever seen when she was this flustered.

"I lost. . . something." Molly said hesitantly and blushed profusely. What she had lost was a gift for Sherlock, a nice blue scarf because his old one was old and he never seemed to just buy a new one for himself.

"Do you need help looking for it?" The offer was a casual as any even though Sherlock could all but read Molly's embarrassment in a sans serif fount above her head.

"No!" Molly was nearly shouting. The last thing she needed was to embarrass herself further by having Sherlock help her find the figt she had bought for him.

Unsure of what to do Sherlock went on autopilot. "It is a scarf isn't it? What you are looking for. But you don't wear scarves, at least not usually, and nothing in blue because you think it washes out your skin. It isn't in your closet by the way. It is in your nightstand, probably you though I wouldn't notice it there."

Molly stared at Sherlock for a moment before standing and walking to her bedside table and pulling a paper wrapped and limp package out of the top drawer.

"You really need to explain to me how you do that someday." Molly sat on her bed and beckoned Sherlock over to her. He obliged and sat next to her. "This is for you by the way."

Molly passed Sherlock the package and watched surprised as he didn't comment, but simply opened the present. He was still quiet as he unfolded the scarf, looked it over and then experimentally wrapped it around his neck.

"Well?" Molly was extremely on edge. Nervous that Sherlock didn't like the scarf. She started fidgeting with her comforter.

"It is a nice scarf." Sherlock easily admitted, smiling softly and catching Molly's gaze. He could tell that Molly had put quite a bit of thought into this gift, and that made him feel good. "Thank you, Molly Hooper."

Molly let those four small words wash over her and she grinned, leaning forward to meet Sherlock's appreciative lip lock and let the contact calm her nerves and make her forget any stress of the day.

* * *

**Authors Note: So I wrote this little chapter because today is my birthday and I felt like sharing a bit of joy! Also this is a bit of a segue chapter to them growing up some more and stuff maybe even a case in the future!**


	7. A Kiss Goodbye

**Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to BBC's Sherlock or Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes or anything like that.**

* * *

Sherlock did everything in his power to make sure that his last day on break was memorable day for both of them. The weather had been perfect for once and so at Molly's insistence the two went to a nearby park and enjoyed the sunshine.

Sherlock had never really been fond of running around seemingly without a purpose, but he found himself easily running after Molly and smiling as she giggled whenever he managed to wrap his arms around her waist.

After spending an hour or so at the park Sherlock took Molly's hand in his and they walked to a little cafe a few blocks away to have lunch. Molly had ordered a cold cut sandwich and Sherlock got the same.

They talked all through lunch about anything but the fact that Sherlock was leaving early the next morning. Molly chattered about her upcoming assignments in school. Sherlock mentioned his talk with Lestrade and how he was hoping to work cases often. He had finally decided on a name for his job – a consultant detective – and found uni unnecessary at this point, but would continue to go all the same.

"That sounds really dangerous." Molly said at one point. Concern was more than evident on her face, but Sherlock smiled.

"I'll be careful, only taking the small cases at first." Sherlock answered. "It is sweet that you are so protective of me though." This comment caused Molly to blush and look down at the table for a minute before continuing their conversation.

He was interested in hearing Molly's plans; she had decided to continue her education and become a pathologist. Many people – Molly's parents included – couldn't understand why Molly wanted to work with dead people, but Sherlock did and supported her fully.

After lunch they went to the cinema and enjoyed the newest action movie to grace the silver screen. As they walked out Sherlock had his usual spiel about inaccuracies and Molly just laughed at the predictableness of it all.

Sherlock's parents hosted a small family style dinner that night and had invited the Hoopers. They graciously accepted and it had a quaint and comfortable feel to it as both Molly's and Sherlock's parents teased them about their budding relationship over the Alfredo pasta and garlic bread.

They talked about things other than the couple; school was a popular subject. Mr. Hooper asked Sherlock about his plans for the future and Sherlock, sensing some sort of test, was particularly careful with his answers, but was honest all the same.

Around seven at night the adults excused themselves and retired to the Holmes sanctuary room for gossip and a drink, leaving Sherlock and Molly to their own devices.

The two ended up curled up on a couch placed in the family room with the telly on in the background, even though neither of them was truly paying attention to it. Molly wanted to say something to Sherlock , but what was there to say? She didn't want Sherlock to leave but school was exactly where he should be.

Sherlock had assured Molly that he would be back at the end of term, Christmas time and there was little else he could do to try to make Molly feel better. He could tell that she was upset –it was obvious- but he could think of nothing to tell her.

So, instead trying to say something they both simply sat on the couch. Molly was curled into Sherlock's side and his arm was draped around her shoulders.

A few hours later the Hoopers left for the night. They told Molly that she could stay until midnight, but no later, and the adult Holmes' retired to their bedroom.

Sometime around ten at night Molly broke the silence between the two.

"You are really leaving tomorrow aren't you?" She was quiet, timid even, that was how she felt at least.

Sherlock's voice was a resigned silence when he answered. "Yes, I would love nothing more than a few more days with you, but I must leave."

Molly nodded and the two lapsed into silence again for a few moments then Sherlock's voice echoed through the quiet room again. "You will be there in the morning, to say goodbye?"

To be honest, Molly hadn't thought about it, but did not hesitate in her answer. "Yes."

With that the two were quiet again and Molly left early with a goodnight and a light kiss pressed to Sherlock's cheek. She didn't sleep well that night, instead waking up every thirty minutes or so.

The sun was just peaking over the horizon as Molly gave up on sleep. Sherlock was supposed to leave in an hour and she knew he would be awake by now.

Dressing quickly Molly tip-toed out of the house so that her parents wouldn't wake up and hurried to Sherlock's front door. He greeted her there before she even knocked; his parents were still asleep as well.

Molly sat on his bed as Sherlock checked once more to make certain that he had not forgotten anything he needed and they talked about anything and everything they might have missed the day before.

When it was time for Sherlock to leave Molly insisted on helping Sherlock take his bags to the cab and Sherlock –ever the gentleman – denied the help and they walked onto the street. Once Sherlock's bags were loaded into the cab they stood on the sidewalk for a moment, saying their goodbyes.

"You promise you aren't going to find some tall, blond, floozy to replace me?" Molly asked. She was mostly teasing, but if she couldn't help but notice that Sherlock was extremely handsome, surely someone else had.

"You are the only person I can think about like that." Sherlock responded. "I should be worried about you."

"Don't. I haven't wanted to go out with anyone but you since my eighth birthday." As she said this Molly pulled Sherlock close to her by his mew, blue scarf and pressed her lips to his for a chaste and brief kiss goodbye.

Sherlock didn't want to, but after Molly moved away, he whispered a quick goodbye and folded himself in to the back of the cab.

"You got yourself a real pretty girl there." The cabbie said as he pulled away from the sidewalk.

"Yes, I got lucky with her." Sherlock answered without thinking about his reply.

Later, as he continued to travel towards the school, Sherlock agreed more thoroughly. He was very lucky to find someone like Molly.


	8. A Kiss Hello

**Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to BBC's Sherlock or Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes or anything like that.**

* * *

Sherlock's last day at university before term break was the longest day of his life. The only thing that kept him moving through his various classes was thinking about spending Christmas and the New Year with Molly.

It had already been two years since the couple got together and Molly had just finished her training as a forensic pathologist and would start her residency at the beginning of the New Year. Sherlock had decided that this would be his last year at university and after the next term it was time for him to focus on what he really wanted to do, solve crimes.

At the end of his classes he returned to the dorm and packed what he would need for the time he would be away. John was already at the dorm and stood in the doorway watching Sherlock pack.

"You know you aren't leaving until tomorrow right?" John asked jokingly. He knew that Sherlock was eager to see Molly and he knew exactly why too. Because of this he couldn't help but tease Sherlock, the poor chap had to be so nervous.

Sherlock just humphed in response and continued packing. He grabbed the small package he had purchased as a gift a week ago for Molly off of his desk and carefully packed it in between his shirts and socks. He was not about to risk losing it.

After he was done packing Sherlock finally looked up at John. "Are you sure you do not want to come back as well?"

"Nah, I'll just hang out here, no need for me to go back. Besides Sarah is having a few parties at her place." John had decided not to go home for break and to instead stay and party with his newest girlfriend.

Sherlock didn't approve of Sarah, but was careful not to say anything because he didn't want to upset John, so instead nodded and dropped the conversation. The two friends ordered in that night and went to sleep early. Then the next morning Sherlock left for home early and John slept late like Sherlock had expected

Molly spent the day before Sherlock's arrival keeping busy. She had finished her first term the day before so she spent the day baking and cleaning for something to do. This form of time killing continued well into the night and followed Molly into the next day.

She woke up very early on the day Sherlock would arrive home, and by noon Molly had bread in the oven and was sitting at the breakfast table with a cup of tea when her mother walked into the room.

"Looks like you have been awake for a while." Mrs. Hooper noted.

"Didn't sleep well." Molly explained. "Tea?"

"No, I'm good. Excited that Sherlock will be back soon?" Molly's mother sat down opposite her at the table.

"Yeah." Molly admitted blushing. She knew her mother was teasing her so it was all in sport. "Are you okay . . . with us?"

Mrs. Hooper smiled, "I figured that you would end up together eventually. Just be careful."

"Of course mum." Molly said with a smile. That was all that there was to the conversation, but her mom's parting words left Molly thinking.

She had faith that Sherlock wouldn't intentionally hurt her, but he was Sherlock after all. They had been together for two years now and Molly understood the need to take things slowly, but it still made her wonder if they were going to be able to stay together what with Molly moving to London for her residency at St Bartholomew's Hospital and Sherlock still at his university in Cambridge.

Pushing the thought away Molly sipped at her tea. Then, when she was finished moved to the kitchen to clean the counters and mop the floor after the flour she had spilt.

Sherlock arrived at his house just after lunch time and was more than glad to put an end to the sitting and waiting that seemed to drag on forever. As he unloaded his luggage from the cab he watched Molly's house from the corner of his eye, but didn't see any movement.

He took the time to unpack and talk with his parents. The first part didn't take very long, but Sherlock's parents seemed to decide that there was a lot their son needed to be filled in on everything that had happened in the neighborhood since the last time he was home. He was informed that Mycroft would arrive home the following day and so there would be a compulsory family dinner, but tonight was his.

After he was finished unpacking, Sherlock walked to Molly's house where he was welcomed inside by a rather bubbly Mrs. Hooper and was told that Molly was in the kitchen. As he walked in he could smell the baking bread and was greeted by the sight of Molly mopping up the kitchen floor with her back to him.

"Smells good." Sherlock commented.

Molly squeaked and dropped her mop, scrambling to pick it back up as she replied. "I should hope so." Molly stopped mid-sentence then turned to face him she hadn't realized who she was talking to. "Sherlock!"

"Hello Molly." His smile was so large it mirrored hers.

"It is great that you are back. How was your first term? Where the exams difficult? Are you glad for break?" Molly asked as many question as she could, setting aside the mop. She asked every question but the one she wanted to know. She wanted to know if he had missed her.

"I'm glad to be back, term was dull, and exams were simple." Sherlock rattled off the answers to Molly's questions easily. "I'm glad to be on break. You didn't sleep well last night."

Molly nodded, blushing slightly as Sherlock took a step closer to her. "I guess I was excited"

"I didn't sleep at all." Sherlock admitted. "Not that I sleep often."

Molly's smile softened, it was so like Sherlock. She had always known that he slept very little, but she liked to think that last night's lack of sleep meant he cared for her.

"Well, I'm just going to finish mopping up and then the bread should be done." Molly returned to the mop her back once again to Sherlock. His voice was directly behind her when he spoke again.

"That sounds amazing, but there is something I would like to do first if you don't mind." His arms snaked around Molly and gently removed the mop from her grasp and set the offending cleaning instrument aside before turning her face to him.

Molly was frozen as she met Sherlock's intense gaze. She could feel his hands on her waist and the heat flaring up in her cheeks. She tried to look at the floor but the end result of that move was Sherlock moving his had under her chin.

"I missed you," he admitted, "and I would be lying if I said I hadn't thought about this every day. Every time I called you, and every time I was in that realm between sleep and consciousness."

With that speech Molly's legs were jelly by the time she finally felt Sherlock's mouth capture hers. That moment only lasted a few seconds but to Molly it seemed to last for a comfortable eternity, and all Sherlock could think about was how small, soft, and well . . . perfect Molly felt in his arms.

When they broke apart both participants were smiling widely and Molly had to collect herself before she could speak. "I missed you too. Now go and sit at the table and behave yourself. As soon as I have the bread out of the oven we can have a proper talk." She playfully scolded.

Sherlock's grin became impish as he responded. "Yes, Ma'am." He even threw a mock salute at her as he turned to sit at the nearby table.

Molly took no time at all to finish cleaning the kitchen and she turned the electric kettle on again for a fresh batch of tea.

With perfect timing, the bread was out of the oven just as the water began to boil. She prepared the tea like she knew Sherlock enjoyed it and brought over some of the fresh bread and jam for a snack.

Sherlock enjoyed watching Molly like this, all domestic. She probably didn't know but she hummed quietly to herself while she made the tea and she moved so gracefully around the kitchen he could tell she was comfortable there.

Once they were seated across from each other they enjoyed the afternoon snack and each other's company. They chatted about the weather –it was turning extremely cold very quickly- and they were even getting a bit of snow. They talked about school as well. Molly asked, not for the first time, how Sherlock and Lestrade were getting along.

Sherlock was often irritated with Lestrade, but enjoyed the work. He was hoping to pick up more exciting cases as he earned the DI's trust.

The two were left alone for a long while and were glad to catch up. Sherlock asked Molly if she were free for a date that afternoon and she said she was. The particulars were set, and Sherlock excused himself to work on his newest idea for an experiment. He rushed out of Molly's house with a light kiss placed on her cheek and a "See you later Miss Hooper."


	9. A Kiss Under The Mistletoe

**Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to BBC's Sherlock or Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes or anything like that.**

* * *

When Christmas Eve arrived the Holmes' house was as quiet as a church mouse. The family did exchange gifts as a rule, but for the most part the morning was much like every other morning in that household. The Holmes' family Christmas party had already taken place the week before, and that was the only tradition Mrs. Holmes still insisted on.

The Hooper family, in contrast, had music playing well into the night and if you were to open the door you would be greeted by the scent of baking ginger snaps and the sound of laughter.

Sherlock had been invited, not by Molly, but by Mrs. Hooper, which came as a surprise to both Molly and Sherlock. He had accepted after he had contemplated the option of otherwise spending the night quietly sitting in his bedroom or sipping tea with his mother. He also had been given no choice by the Hooper matron.

The home was full of color and life all afternoon. Molly's parents insisted on a gingerbread house decorating contest and the two couples were each assigned a small store bought assembly pack.

Sherlock understood just enough about architecture to put together the house, but when it came to design he was lost. After about five minutes of debating the finer points of the architecture of a cookie house with Molly he regressed to his childlike pout and began simply eating some of the candies just to spite her.

"Sherlock!" Molly scolded him, but she was laughing so he stole another candy off of the tray and popped it into his mouth, a peppermint this time.

"Sherlock Holmes, stop eating the candy! It is supposed to go on the gingerbread house." Molly lightly slapped at Sherlock's hand but he had been too quick.

In response Sherlock smiled mischievously and simply continued to sit there sucking on the solid piece of sugar in his mouth. Both Mr. and Mrs. Hooper noticed the younger couple's little spat and were whispering to each other.

"Oh, I recognize that look," said Mrs. Hooper. "That is the look you used to give me when you would steal my cookies off the baking sheet before I even got them in the oven."

"I still do that." Mr. Hooper laughed. "They seem to be good for each other."

"I can hear you." Molly said cutting into her parents' conversation. She was blushing and continued to feel her cheeks heat up as she concentrated on attaching small spherical candies to the trim on her gingerbread roof.

The other three in the room simply laughed and Molly was taken by surprise to hear Sherlock's quiet chuckle. She found herself smiling because of it.

Within the hour everyone agreed that Molly's gingerbread house was the best. She teasingly refused to share credit with Sherlock because he had been so completely baffled by the house design.

After that the two couples moved to the family's sitting room so that they could exchange gifts and sit to talk for a while. They boys had wandered in first and Molly wasn't able to tell what they were talking about but they had their heads together and were talking quietly, almost conspiratorially.

The girls walked in a while after and stood in the doorway talking. Mrs. Hooper was laughing with Molly about the newest antics of the neighborhood cats. The two women had always been particularly fond of cats and Molly was thinking about adopting a kitten herself once she was moved to London.

Both Molly and Sherlock were surprised then when the conversations were cut short by Mr. Hooper approaching Mrs. Hooper and giving her a quick but sound kiss. Molly figured out what was going on almost immediately and sighed before glancing upwards and sure enough found a green plant with little white berries on it.

Mistletoe, of course. Molly sighed again and tried not to look at Sherlock. He probably didn't know what was going on, in fact Molly wasn't even sure he would understand what mistletoe meant.

Through her embarrassment Molly could hear her father's voice as her parents moved away to the couch. "You might as well kiss her, son."

Sherlock smiled as he walked close to Molly. She was surprised; they had kissed before obviously, but never in front of her parents. The thought alone made her blush.

"You don't have to." Molly whispered once Sherlock was close with his arms reaching out to draw her close.

"Yes I do." Sherlock answered in the same tone with a sly smile forming on his face. "Can't break tradition now can we?"

There was no further discussion on the matter as Sherlock leaned down towards Molly and captured her mouth with his. He had meant to keep it as quick and soft a kiss as the on Mr. and Mrs. Hooper had shared moments before, but as Molly's hands came up to rest against his chest Sherlock found himself struggling to keep his mind on what else was happening around him.

Molly had been dead to the world around her the second Sherlock was leaning towards her. Something was different bout this particular kiss that made her want more. Seemingly of their own accord he hands rested on Sherlock's chest and then moved further up around his neck to pull him closer.

In the end it was Sherlock who pulled away and ended the kiss, with no small amount of self-control, and smiling wider than he had all night, if it was possible. Molly blushed so hard that her face felt warm for the next hour when she remembered that her parents were watching. It didn't matter that she wasn't a teenager any more.

There was a fair bit of teasing from both parents but not in a way that truly embarrassed the young couple and the night was full of good cheer. This lead almost perfectly into the rest of the evening.

The Hooper's living room had a festively lit tree in one corner and the metallic reds and golds of the wrapped packages contrasted perfectly and reflected the lights.

Molly was so happy with the way the evening was progressing that she hardly noticed the white wrapped present hidden next to the largest present under the three.

The older couple exchanged gifts first with a new smoothie maker for Mrs. Hooper and a fishing rod for Mr. Hooper. The couple had also picked out a new book for their daughter full of information on different tumors.

Molly went next giving a new recipe book to her mother and a box of candied nuts to her father. Only after she had taken care of her parents did she pull Sherlock to the side for a little bit of privacy and hand him his gift.

Sherlock deduced as much as he could from the package in the blink of an eye. The wrapping was a bright gold so Molly had wrapped several of the presents at the same time as his, but she had taken greater care with this one than the others.

So she viewed him as an important part of her life, near family even, but still worth impressing.

It was vaguely heavy and rectangular leading Sherlock to assume it was a book of some kind, but instead of trying to figure exactly what Molly had gotten him Sherlock simply opened the wrapping. He pulled out a leather bound notebook with an intricate design tooled into the front.

"This is wonderful Molly." He smiled down at her.

"I thought maybe it would help you to organize everything, to write down your thoughts, sketch things out. . ." Molly trailed off at the end of her explanation and watched Sherlock examine the notebook.

"Thank you Molly. Your gift is under the tree. Just a moment." Sherlock indicated to Molly with a gesture that told her to wait where she was as he moved to the tree.

All eyes were on him as he pulled out the small white package. She didn't rip the paper, but pulled at the tape and laughed at Sherlock's irritated expression.

The laugh became a sharp intake of breath when Molly found the jewelry box in the wrapping and opened it to find a wonderfully intricate charm bracelet.

"Sherlock. . . thank you." Molly smiled up at him.

Molly noticed that throughout the rest of the evening Sherlock had been somewhat withdrawn after their kiss and she worried about what that might mean. He had been outwardly social, but Molly could see something different in his facial expressions.

Sherlock had been thinking very hard throughout the night. He had been thankful to talk to Mr. Hooper earlier so he wouldn't draw attention to himself sometime during the evening.

Before he left he planted a light kiss on Molly's cheek and walked his way home. He smiled as he confirmed to himself that everything would go according to the plan he had so carefully thought out and he thought about the carefully wrapped box tucked into his sock drawer at home.


	10. A New Year's Kiss

**Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to BBC's Sherlock or Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes or anything like that. **

* * *

The last week of December was always one of Molly's favorite times of the year. People were still happy from the joy of Christmas time and they were also looking forward to the fresh start that a new year can bring.

She and Sherlock spent quite a lot of time together whenever their families didn't pull them apart and it was heaven for the month of time. In the evenings they would curl up together in front of the telly and just sit together, or they might discuss the newest book Molly was reading. They hardly ever set an agenda for their time together and that suited both of them just fine.

New Year's Eve arrived faster than either of them had expected, but they were pleased to be attending the community party that night. Sherlock had been unsure he wanted to attend something so normal and mundane, but Molly had persuaded him with the promise of a kiss at midnight.

The party was not an overly formal event, but Molly did pick out a lavender purple dress for the occasion that she accented with silver jewelry, including Sherlock's Christmas gift to her. Sherlock in turn dressed in a deep purple shirt and slacks that his mother had insisted on picking out for him.

Molly arrived first with her family and they gravitated towards one of the large, circular tables Mr. Hooper quickly finding the buffet spread. Molly sat with her mother for a while and was pleased when she learnt that there would be music and dancing later in the night.

Sherlock was not particularly surprised when his mother had insisted that the family must arrive at the party at least ten minutes after the start time stated on the invitation. Never to be shown up or considered rude Mrs. Holmes had calculated exactly what amount of time was appropriate to be considered "fashionably late."

So at exactly thirteen minutes after Molly and her family arrived at the party the Holmes family walked in. Sherlock arrived and immediately felt as though all the air had been suddenly sucked from his lungs. Molly was absolutely gorgeous with her hair carefully twisted up and away from her face, her make-up soft and warm.

Both his mother and father seemed to notice his reaction and smiled to each other as though sharing a secret. Mycroft behind Sherlock nearly ran into him at the abrupt hitch in his step and sniggered in a way that was almost out of character.

"If you like her so much brother, you ought to just propose tonight." Mycroft teased.

Sherlock growled in reply. "Says the man who is in love with his assistant, old enough to be a father twice over and still comes home to mum and dad alone for holidays."

"Boys, no fighting." Mrs. Holmes cut them off before Sherlock and Mycroft could create a scene. The two huffed like school boys and then followed their parents over to the table that the Hoopers were currently occupying.

Sherlock's attempt to sit next to Molly was thwarted by his own mother who immediately began talking to Molly and her mother about some upcoming social event for the New Year. He was irritated by this of course, but found little use in arguing with his mother so he sat for a while simply watching the three women converse.

Once the music started however, Sherlock knew exactly what he had to do in order to get Molly solely to himself. So he gracefully stood, took a short step toward Molly and offered her his hand.

"Would you care to dance with me?" He asked.

"Yes, I would." Molly smiled widely and took Sherlock's hand as she stood up.

Sherlock swept her onto the slowly filling dance floor and puller her close as a popular song with a waltz beat began to play. He lead and Molly was more than happy following along with the beat securely wrapped in his arms.

"How have you been?" Sherlock bent close so that Molly could hear him over the music.

"I just saw you four hours ago," Molly teased, "but I am doing well."

"I see you are wearing my gift." Sherlock noted with a small nod to Molly's wrist where the bracelet hung.

"Yes, I thought it would be appropriate." Molly conceded in a faux posh voice that caused her to descend into giggles. "Honestly thought it is beautiful, thank you."

"I knew it would suit you. I was right of course." He murmured with his mouth near her ear now.

They were silent for a while then and they simply shuffled around the dance floor and enjoyed the simplicity of being close to each other. After three songs however they were both ready for a break and Sherlock kept Molly close as they wound their way through the crowd and back to the table.

As they arrived Sherlock quickly excused himself to gather drink for Molly and himself. Something about the two matrons and the way they were talking gave Sherlock the distinct impression that he did not want to be anywhere near them at the moment.

Sherlock was correct as always and Molly wasn't sure whether to silently curse him or congratulate him for his escape once she was stuck at the table with the mothers. The second she was seated at the table they began bombarding her with questions. She was asked if Sherlock had said anything and if they had talked about their possible future together.

"We haven't really had a lot of time to talk I guess." Molly replied when the question finally cut off.

"Yes dear, of course, but have you thought about what you would say if he were to propose?" Mrs. Holmes asked with a small, knowing smile.

To be honest Molly hadn't really thought about it. She had tried very hard for the last couple of months not to think about her future with Sherlock at all in fact, and she told them as much. Then she had to ask a question that seemed to be at the forefront of her mind.

"Do you think he is going to propose?"

"I don't know dear, but it isn't like you two are simply love struck teenagers any more are you?" Mrs. Holmes answered with Mrs. Hooper nodding in the background. By the time this conversation had ended Sherlock returned to the table with drinks in hand.

"Did I miss anything important?" He asked playing dumb. Molly knew Sherlock had a pretty good idea of what had just happened and he knew that she knew.

"Of course not darling," Mrs. Hooper replied, "sit down for a while. It was so nice of you to get Molly something to drink."

Sherlock reluctantly sat at the table and listened to the chatter at the table. He and Molly stayed close, they held hands under the table and later in the evening they capitalized the opportunity to dance yet again.

They talked very little and Sherlock could tell that Molly seemed to have been pulled into her own world and decided it was best to let her think. So as they danced he simply reveled in holding Molly close.

It was fifteen minutes until midnight when Molly seemed to reach some decision in her internal debate and began talking more. She asked him about his plans for school and this was the first time that he admitted to her that he was moving to London after his last term.

Up until now Sherlock had simply been working as a liaison with Scotland Yard through e-mail, but once he moved to London he was hoping to work more closely with the police. Molly was surprised that Sherlock planned to move to London but was pleased with the idea.

With five minutes left until the New Year families started gathering together and a variety of bubbly drinks was passed around. Molly was reaching for a glass when Sherlock stopped her. Laying a hand on hers and wrapping his free arm around her from his position standing behind her.

"I can think of a better way to toast the New Year than ingesting that." He had to lean down to whisper in her ear, but he was more than rewarded when Molly reacted favorably.

"I'm sure we are not the only ones who think that." Molly relaxed and turned to face Sherlock with a smile on her face. She had seen many of the other couples pass on the drinks in favor of their partner's arms.

Ten

The counting had started.

Nine

Molly smiled up at Sherlock.

Eight

Sherlock easily returned the smile with a warmth that made Molly's heart glow.

Seven

Molly joined in on the counting, laughing just a little.

Six

Sherlock graciously joined in as well.

Five

Four

Three

Both Sherlock's and Molly's voices were lost in the crowd.

Two

They leaned towards each other and listened to the voices swelling around them.

One

Zero

Pandemonium surrounded them, but it faded out in their world as their lips met for a simple and celebratory kiss. Sherlock had been right for a third time that night Molly mused to herself. This was the best way to toast the New Year.

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**Hey everyone! Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed it please review, it helps me stay motivated! **


	11. A Chocolate Kiss

**Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to BBC's Sherlock or Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes or anything like that.**

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January flew by faster than either Sherlock or Molly expected. The cold was just as bone chilling as usual, but Molly found that when she moved to London things seemed even colder.

She settled into her new flat easily and was pleased to be on her own, or at least she thought. As odd as it sounded she very much enjoyed the freedom and also the responsibility that came with her own space. She was also truly enjoying her work at Bart's hospital.

It didn't bother her at all that she was working with the dead, but going back to her empty flat sometimes did, especially as Valentine's Day approached. She had gotten a kitten, a small tabby that she – after some debate – named Toby.

Most days followed a predictable schedule with Molly awake early, with enough time to feed Toby then shower and dress before work. After work she would arrive home to deed Toby yet again and then make herself dinner and fall back asleep.

It wasn't like Molly hadn't made any friends. Most days she spent lunch with Mary who was a nurse upstairs in the children's ward because they worked such similar house, and sometimes they would meet up for coffee and a bit of window shopping on their days off.

Mary had gleefully listened to Molly whenever she talked about Sherlock and even squealed if Moly told a story about something particularly sweet he had done. While Molly enjoyed Mary's antics, she had a feeling that Mary might not truly like Sherlock if she were to meet him.

One particular afternoon, February thirteenth to be exact, the two girls sat together in Molly's flat watching one of those cheesy made for TV movies. They were chatting about this and that, which mostly meant Mary bellyaching about not having a day for Valentine's Day, and while she didn't say it Molly was upset that she and Sherlock could not spend the lovers' holiday together. With Sherlock away at school Molly understood that he was unable to get away for one day, but she still wished he could.

The movie was following the predictable pattern. The two lovers had run into the giant snag in their relationship that would obviously estrange the two until the last five minutes of the movie. Molly was tearing up and Mary was full on blubbering by this point and as irrational as the actions felt, both girls felt better about their lonely status when the end credits were rolling across the screen.

It was dinner time so the girls ordered in and found another made for TV romance to watch while they ate. The food didn't take particularly long to arrive either so they were settled in and watching the movie in no time.

Molly was just settled when the doorbell rang. She looked over at Mary, who shrugged back at her. Neither of them was expecting a visitor. So Molly got up to answer the door and was surprised to see a young boy who looked to work for the mail system.

"I am looking for a Molly Hooper?" he asked running a free had through his hair while his opposite arm cradled a package.

"Yes, that's me." She answered.

The boy smiled and pulled a clipboard from under his arm that had been hidden behind the package. "This is perishable; you need to sign for it."

Molly took the clipboard from the boy and then passed it back to take the parcel in turn. Then with a smile and nod she retreated back to the couch and Mary's questioning gaze.

"Just a piece of mail. I'll open it later." Molly answered Mary's unspoken question.

"You should open it now!" Mary insisted, setting her plate of food aside. Molly didn't need a lot of pushing to be convinced to open the package, especially when she noticed that the return address what that of Sherlock Holmes.

As she unwrapped the package, she found a rather bulky bag that was quickly revealed to be a bag of Hershey's chocolate kisses with a note attached. As soon as Mary figured out what Molly's gift was, she was laughing so hard that she fell of the sofa. Molly read the note and then started laughing along with Mary.

"It was sweet of him to send you chocolate." Mary said as soon as she had mostly collected herself apart from the occasional giggle.

"Yes. Now let's finish eating." Molly said smiling just as wide as Mary.

The two settled back in to eat dinner and finish the movie. After the food was gone Molly was even in a good enough mood to share her chocolate.

The note that had been attached to the bag had been tucked carefully into the crevice between two books on the closest bookshelf and for a while forgotten.

_Dearest Molly, _

_Sorry you had to be alone on a sentimental holiday. I am hoping that won't happen often._

_With Care,_

_Sherlock Holmes_

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**Short and sweet for this chapter. :) So for anyone wondering why this chapter is coming way earlier than usual it is because tomorrow is St. Patrick's Day for me and that is when the next chapter is set, so I'm trying to finish the chapter quickly and have it ready to be posted by tomorrow afternoon. Don't worry. I am still going to try to have a chapter for Friday as well, but I just thought it would be nice to try and post the chapter on it's assigned holiday for once. **


	12. An Irish Kiss and A Kiss To Say Yes

**Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to BBC's Sherlock or Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes or anything like that.**

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Molly hated the color green. No, that wasn't quite true. She did enjoy the color green most of the time, but on March seventeenth it was simply too much. Green everywhere and on every one in an abundance that made Molly feel like she had crash landed on an alien planet.

Just waking up in the morning was difficult today because it meant digging through her closet simply to find an acceptable green blouse and matching accessories because this holiday meant so much to everyone else in the world.

She chastised herself about her sour mood as she finally found an appropriate shirt with the saying 'Kiss Me I'm Irish' that she matched with blue jeans and a green headband to keep her hair from her face. She knew she would have to pull it back into a tail while she was at work but Molly enjoyed leaving her hair down when she could.

In the end she was running five minutes late for work, but she consoled herself with the fact that she looked cute so it could be worse. Once she had sat through the excruciatingly long cab ride she hurried into Bart's only to find Mike Stamford waiting for her in the morgue.

"Morning Molly." He called to her cheerfully as she hurriedly tied back her hair and pulled on her lab coat.

"Good Morning Mike. Anything I can do for you?" Molly graced Mike with a smile as she checked her work space for any paperwork she needed to be aware of.

"No, not really," Mike answered. "I do have a class this afternoon and I am lecturing on the digestive system of all things. Do you mind if I bring them down? Maybe you could show them a few things?"

Molly's smile widened, she enjoyed working with Mike's classes so her response was eager, though she tried to maintain some sense of decorum. "Of course, just phone down on the landline about an hour before you need me to be ready." With a few more pleasantries Mike soon left Molly alone to her work for the day.

There was nothing too gruesome on Molly's docket today. She had one natural death that for some reason required an autopsy and one terminally ill patient that had died sooner than the doctors anticipated. The second one did upset Molly, but in her world death was a constant factor.

After about two hours Mike phoned down and Molly, excited, went about preparing for the class. With fifteen minutes until they were supposed to arrive she pulled out one of the donated cadavers for the class, and debated back and forth between cutting the cadaver herself or having someone else do it. She finally settled on letting one of the students do the cutting with the idea that hands on experience was the best way to learn.

The morgue was set up and ready when the class filed in and it worked out as well as could be imagined. At the end of the hour Mike had asked for only three of the students lost their lunch so to speak, which must have set a new record, usually it was more. Molly felt bad for those students; she had been one of them when she first started studying forensic pathology. It had taken her longer than she would care to admit to be able to control her gag reflex when she was performing autopsies.

The rest of her day was full of paperwork, lots and lots of paperwork. The natural death from early had been tied up for about an hour and Molly worked diligently to release the body to the family as quickly as possible. There had been the small matter of a signature from a higher up that had been overlooked, but Molly tracked him down and got everything straightened out as quickly as possible.

The worst part of her job was always when paperwork got in the way of the families. Often everything would run smoothly, but not often enough and that would cause distress to the family. Molly hated any upset to the family; it was bad enough they had lost a loved one, but to have added stress on them helped no one.

So with that topic hanging heavy on her mind Molly left work. It did cause her to be just a little less bubbly than usual, but because she had no more plans for the night besides a small microwaved meal and some telly it hardly mattered to her.

She had let down her hair so that it hung loosely around her shoulders again and was hurrying out of Bart's ten minutes after her shift ended. It would have been five minutes, but Mary had trapped her into the usual pleasantries for a few minutes just as she was about to walk out the door. Molly felt like Mary was stalling her for some reason, but couldn't figure out why, and so was glad to be released when Mary's mobile phone beeped signaling she had a text. She was about five meters out the door and on the pavement outside when she suddenly ran smack into someone.

This someone was tall and trim, much like . . . no. It couldn't be . . . could it? Molly took a step back and found that she had run straight into Sherlock.

"What are you doing here? I . . . why aren't you at the university?" Molly asked so surprised that she was almost yelling.

"Molly, my term ended two days ago." Sherlock said with a tone that sounded almost condescending but was betrayed by wide smile that he only reserved for when he was teasing her. Then his expression changed to one that was less teasing and instead simply happy. "I thought you might like it if I surprised you."

"I do, immensely. Oh I am so happy you are here!" Molly's mood changed faster than she had expected and soon all she could think was that Sherlock was standing there on the sidewalk with her. All of her worries and stress from the day were as good as gone for now.

"What are your plans for dinner?" Sherlock asked as he led her in the direction of her flat. He seemed to know at the very least what direction she lived in, but since she had been heading in that direction when she bumped into him she assumed he simply figured it out.

"I didn't have anything special planed." She wasn't about to admit that she had really been planning just to curl up on her couch and mope. "Why?" Molly asked curious.

"Good. I made us reservations. We can go back to your flat if you wish to clean up. Though I really do like how you look now. The green complements you and I would enjoy taking the directive from your shirt." Sherlock's voice dropped not just to a whisper but also at least a half octave lower than usual with his last comment.

Molly felt her cheeks warm as she focused on the pavement at her feet. She wanted to come up with some cheeky response but for a moment couldn't. Sherlock found the action endearing as he continued down the sidewalk; Molly was hardly ever truly shy around him, but when she was he found it impossibly cute.

They talked off and on while they walked. Molly asked about Sherlock's term at school. Sherlock asked about Molly's work. They even talked about the weather. Molly couldn't stop thinking about how awkward the conversation was, but Sherlock seemed content with it. They reached her flat after a short walk and Molly let Sherlock in.

"Sorry the flat is a mess." Molly tried to pick up the most incriminating things from her floor such as a pile of clean clothes she was going to fold tonight and an empty crisp bag from her coffee table that she had eaten last night.

"It's fine. Go clean up if you wish. The restaurant is higher end." Sherlock said with a slight wave of his hand. The most endearing part to Molly was that it seemed like Sherlock truly did not care about the state of her flat.

"Oh, alright." Molly agreed and then let out a squeal half in shock and half in delight as Sherlock pulled her back to him by her arm.

"I want to capitalize on the opportunity to kiss you first, though I am fairly sure you are not Irish." Sherlock murmured as he pulled her closer and pressed his lips to hers in a firm, but undemanding, kiss.

This one was not like the others in the past had been. Before there had been no rush, not expectation to the kiss, it was simply because they wanted to express affection. This kiss though was searching, like Sherlock was trying to ask a question without words, and when his tongue lightly brushed against her lips Molly responded in kind without any hesitation.

The kiss ended there however, and Molly hurried to her bedroom so that she could change into a nicer dress for dinner. She tried to move as quickly as she could, but in the end it took her nearly twenty minutes. Her head had been spinning from the kiss and it took her the full twenty minutes to put her mind back together.

"Molly, you look lovely." Sherlock complimented her as she stepped from the bedroom. She was wearing a black dress with a ballet style top and a skirt that reached to her knees. She had left the green ribbon in her hair and a small four leafed clover pendant on a sliver chain had been added for a classy touch, which to Sherlock's way of thinking was distinctly Molly.

"Thank you." She smiled and met Sherlock's gaze. "You look amazing as well, but you always do." A timid and honest smile playing across her face.

"Thank you Molly. Now we must go if we plan to make our reservations." Sherlock offered his arm to Molly and she smiled as she wrapped her arm in his.

Sherlock got them a cab for the ride to the restaurant and they sat quietly next to each other with their fingers intertwined. Molly's favorite thing to do when they sat like this was to take one of Sherlock's hands in the both of hers and play with his fingers or trace patterns into his palm. Sherlock had become very fond of this gesture and did everything possible to encourage the action with open body language and a relaxed hand.

Molly's breath was taken away when she discovered what restaurant they had arrived at. It was one of the most posh places in this part of London. When they walked in the _Maître D_ took Sherlock's name and led them to the table almost immediately.

It seemed Sherlock had ordered in advance and had picked out a few of Molly's favorite foods. First the salad came out with a lovely vinaigrette dressing, and then fried calamari as an appetizer. Molly had been squeamish about that dish she had only ever heard of it before, but tried it as Sherlock's insistence, and found she actually enjoyed it once she got past the little tentacles. Chicken tortellini followed for the main course and Molly was almost full to bursting when the cheesecake arrived along with the offer of coffee.

Just before she was able to bite into her cheesecake however Sherlock held up his hand in a gesture that caused Molly to pause. "What is it Sherlock?" She questioned.

"I perhaps should have done this earlier, but I figure just before dessert is a sufficient time." Sherlock said then stood.

"Sherlock, what?" Molly was cut off when Sherlock took a knee in front of her chair that she had pulled back a little from the table to face him.

"Molly Hooper, I may be good with words, but I am far from adept with emotions so I am not sure how best to go about this. However it would mean a great deal to me if you would agree to be my wife me." Sherlock said with a practiced tone as he pulled a small, black velvet ring box from his blazer pocket.

Molly gasped at the sight of the ring; it was elegant but simple and just perfect. She couldn't even manage words with how surprised she was; she even started crying just a little. So she nodded as best she could and all but jumped onto Sherlock, pulling him in for a quick kiss.

Sherlock smiled and held her close for a moment while Molly collected herself. The kiss had been an acceptance of course, but he was more excited to hear the actual words come from Molly. He didn't have to wait too long thankfully.

"Yes, of course I will marry you Sherlock. Yes." Molly whispered as she finally let him go.

When Sherlock reclaimed his seat he swore he could hear an older woman at the next table chattering to her husband. "Oh, they look so happy, and engaged on St. Patrick's Day too. What luck for them."

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**So this is my longest chapter so far and even though I edited it twice myself I didn't work with an editor for this one so if you see anything feel free to let me know. Otherwise enjoy! (Now you all know why I updated yesterday.) And one last thing! If you have any ideas PLEASE SEND THEM TO ME! I really wan't to post another chapter this Friday, but I need some ideas!**


	13. A Kiss To Make Up

**Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to BBC's Sherlock or Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes or anything like that.**

* * *

Sherlock and Molly's engagement so far had seemed to go off without a hitch. Both mothers were ecstatic and the fathers seemed genuinely pleased. Mrs. Holmes was more than happy for her youngest son to be engaged. To her, the most important thing was the possibility of future grandchildren.

Mr. Hooper was the loudest champion on Molly's side, which amused everyone to no end. Of course Mrs. Hooper was entirely happy about the newest change in her daughter's love life, but her husband was always at had with a joke or some teasing threat for Sherlock, who in turn acted intimated when in truth he wasn't.

They had chosen a wedding date over a year from their engagement in April of the next year. Sherlock had not been in favor of such a long wait, but all three women banded together and insisted that the full time was necessary in order to arrange a proper wedding.

They were well into summer now and still well away from the wedding date. Sherlock had finished school and moved to London himself.

Even though the couple was engaged, they had opted to maintain separate residences for the sake of a space to call their own through the high stress periods of their engagement.

This turned out to be an extremely beneficial idea. Not even a month after Sherlock had moved to London, he had gotten himself involved in a particularly gruesome case. There had been a locked door triple homicide that led Sherlock into several red light districts and outside of London.

Molly had been prepared to deal with these kind of things when she agreed to marry Sherlock, well after the initial euphoria wore off, so that didn't bother her too much. However she had not been prepared for Sherlock to disappear for three days because of it.

On day one she didn't think too much of it because she knew he was working. On the second day though the panic set in. It was usual for Sherlock not to, at the very least, send her a text every once in a while just to check in.

By the end of the third day Molly called the police to report a missing person. When she said Sherlock's name however she was immediately connected to Detective Inspector Gregory Lestrade. When she asked about Sherlock the D. I. inquired as to who she was.

This left Molly in the extremely awkward position of having to explain that she was Sherlock's fiancée. No, she wasn't lying. Yes, it had been a couple of months. Yes, he was a difficult sod sometimes and thank you for the congratulations.

After that embarrassing and difficult exchange Lestrade told her that Sherlock was just fine; standing right next to him in fact. He asked if Molly wanted to talk to him, and as much as she wanted to, she declined. She had nothing to say to him right now anyway.

As soon as Lestrade answered the phone call from Molly Sherlock knew he was in trouble. He tried to count the days back to when he had last called her. Three days if he was counting correctly, well sixty-three hours to be slightly more exact.

Sherlock waited as Lestrade glanced at him and then asked Molly a series of questions that caused the D.I. to grin widely and ended with a congratulations to Molly. So now Lestrade knew that Sherlock had asked Molly to marry him and that she had accepted.

Sherlock hadn't exactly been hiding Molly from Lestrade and the others, he just found it irrelevant to his work with the police. So when Lestrade put the receiver back on the hood Sherlock continued on his earlier train of thought about the murders until Lestrade cut him off.

"You didn't tell me you were engaged Sherlock." Greg said leaning back in his office chair and kicking his feet up in a relaxed position.

Sherlock's response was gruff mostly because the smile plastered on the man in front of him was extremely irritating. "I did not think it was necessary to the work."

"I didn't even know you were in any sort of relationship." His smile remained on his face despite Sherlock's rough response.

"Like I said. unnecessary information to our work." Sherlock hated repeating himself and by this point was quite irritated.

"You haven't talked to her in three days." Lestrade commented now. He smile had faded a little and his tone was more serious than teasing.

"So?" Sherlock's short reply was exactly to the point.

"So?" Lestrade's tone was quizzical, almost scandalized at this point. "Sherlock you can't just not talk to your fiancé for three days! I know you aren't good with these things, but really Sherlock!"

Sherlock stopped abruptly from the track he was wearing into the office floor. "Why on earth not?" He asked as he looked down at the man behind the desk.

"Do you love her Sherlock?" Lestrade's voice had lowered and his expression was completely serious.

Sherlock's expression changed almost infinitesimally, but enough that Greg could tell, and his reply came after a lengthy pause. "I am marrying her."

"That's not what I asked." Lestrade interrupted. "Do you love her?"

For the first time since Gregory Lestrade had met him, Sherlock Holmes was completely dumbstruck. Not a word came out of the consulting detective's mouth as he stood in the middle of the office. Then Sherlock abruptly turned heel and all but ran out of the room. Sherlock was a mess as he walked nearly ten blocks in the opposite direction from his flat. When he was done thinking he turned around and walked back to New Scotland Yard and back into Lestrade's office.

Lestrade was still sitting behind his desk, engrossed in paperwork. He looked up and was only mildly surprised to find Sherlock standing in front of him.

Sherlock looked like he had survived a minor skirmish with a couple of trained assassins. His hair was out of place and he looked worn near to the bone.

"Yes." Was Sherlock's one word. No introductions, no preamble, simply to the point.

Without missing a single beat Lestrade responded. "Have you told her?"

"No." again just one word.

"You probably should. As you pointed out earlier, you two are engaged." Lestrade reasoned it out for Sherlock, figuratively laying it out on the table.

Sherlock nodded then had one more comment before strolling out. "It was the housekeeper."

Molly was properly seething within ten minutes of hanging up the phone after the conversation with Detective Inspector Gregory Lestrade. Her soon-to-be-husband had been running around London for the last three days hunting down some sort of pycho killer!

That would have been bad enough, but then to top all he didn't even bother to tell her he was okay! Not even a text, not even a little text to let her know that he was alright!

If that was how married life with Sherlock was going to play out then Molly was by no means sure she could follow through with it. Fiddling with the ring now settled on her left hand Molly tried to calm herself, but was simply unable to and her hands shook as she punched Mary's number into her phone.

Mary answered on the third ring with a quick and almost rushed. "Molly, I'm kind of busy. Can this wait?"

Molly started tearing up for now apparent reason, probably distress mixed with anger. "Yes, of course. Sorry."

Marry obviously heard the distress in Molly's voice and Molly heard her talk to someone on her side of the phone before her reply. "Never mind I've got as much time as you need. Talk to me."

"Oh Mary, Sherlock didn't text me for three days and I know I sound really silly but he was hunting down some killer and I was scared. I mean what if he had been murdered two days ago and I have been sitting here planning our wedding? Oh, would that make me a bad fiancé?" Molly's words came so fast that they all but blurred together and the tears were coming in buckets fulls now.

Marry had the patience of a saint as she first listened and then thought through what Molly had just told her. "Well that was rude of him." Was her response.

Molly hiccupped through a laugh at that comment and as soon as she could she added a brief. "Yes it was."

Just as she managed yet another hiccup and Mary was chattering about something that was supposed to help cheer Molly up there was a knock at the door. So Molly excused herself from the phone conversation, punched the end button and then walked to answer the door.

When she found Sherlock on the opposite side of the door her first instinct was to slam the door in his face so that is exactly what she did. Then she felt a little bad so she reopened the door. "I don't want to talk to you right now Sherlock." Okay, so that wasn't really any less rude, but at least she had looked him in the eyes when she said it right?

"Obviously." Sherlock had that infuriating smirk on his face and Molly almost wanted to slap him to wipe it off, but then his expression changed, became somber. "You were crying."

"Obviously." Molly mocked.

She had thrown the words at him in a way that was meant to give physical pain as they slapped Sherlock, but he didn't seem affected by them. "May I come in?"

Molly was about to tell him what she thought, in other words to shove off, but she took a deep, calming breath. She thought over her answer and invited him in.

He walked in like a kitten uncertainly exploring a new territory. He looked almost wary of her as he walked in, not his usual proud gate by any means.

"Do you need something? Tea?" Molly's manners kicked in when she least wanted them to of course.

"No." Sherlock answered with an almost tired shake of his head. "I actually came to talk to you about earlier."

"No." Molly interrupted Sherlock. "I don't want to listen to this Sherlock. I am mad at you. You disappeared for three days! Then to top it all off I had to explain that we are engaged when I phoned the police to try and find you!" Molly's voice had risen to a yell by now, but she wasn't done yet. "Do you have any idea how embarrassing that was for me?"

She paused after that question waiting to see if Sherlock would replay. It only angered her more when Sherlock stood there, apathetically and took every word as stoically as a cat might.

"You didn't even send me a simple, one word text for three days! I was starting to wonder if you were dead. I spent all of today worrying that instead of planning our wedding perhaps I should have been planning your funeral!" Molly was done yelling, she just couldn't any more. Then with a shaky breath she added one final comment in a voice that was just as shaky. "I love you Sherlock. And because of that I need you to leave."

Sherlock had a gentle and quiet manner about him as he walked closer to Molly. "No."

"What?" Molly blinked in surprise although she really shouldn't have been. Sherlock always was a stubborn one.

"You heard me. I'm not leaving Molly, because I came here to tell you something, to talk to you." Sherlock brought his hands to Molly's hips to puller her closer to him. They were only a few centimeters apart now and as Molly tried to pull away from him Sherlock only pulled her closer.

He was whispering now and Molly had make eye contact with him. "I am, sorry that my actions distressed you and I promise to be better at contacting you while I work a case from now on. Also," he paused and his breath was almost as shaky as Molly's, "I love you too Molly."

Molly stood frozen for a moment. She hadn't really thought about the fact that they had never said those words out loud to each other, but now that they had it was a powerful thing.

Then the tension broke rather suddenly as Molly pulled Sherlock down and crushed her lips to his in a rushed and uncoordinated kiss. This kiss wasn't one designed to be sweet or seductive in any way at all. This kiss was simply Molly's way of showing Sherlock not only that all was forgiven, but also that she had really heard and accepted what he said.

Sherlock had been shocked by the rather sudden kiss. It was rare for Molly to initiate a kiss between the two and he found he rather enjoyed it when she did.

When the two broke apart they were both a little short of breath and smiling widely. "I'm trusting you to keep that promise." Molly whispered.

"I will." Sherlock replied.

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**So as I was trying to decide what to write for this week I had the idea for a little row from ThefadingdaysofMay so props to her and I also realized that they had never said I love you to each other. I check! Silly over site on my part. Well I hope you enjoyed the chapter!**


	14. A Wedding Kiss

**Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to BBC's Sherlock or Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes or anything like that.**

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On the day of her wedding, Molly was so excited and nervous that she honestly could not remember much about the day of the ceremony itself. There were impressions that Molly would keep close to her heart for the rest of her life, though. That, and there were also the piles upon piles of pictures that had been taken by several different photographers throughout the day.

The church was perfectly decorated, and the room seemed full of flowers. The scent filled the entire room and many of the women, and even some of the men, stopped to admire them before the ceremony.

As she got ready with her mother and attendants, she felt the cold plastic bag that had carefully protected her dress. Then she savored the feel of the smooth silk on her skin as she slid the dress on. The dress fit her perfectly of course, the three separate fittings had seen to that.

Then there was the music. Soft and sweet, the strains of it filled the vast chapel almost to the brim, but only just registered in Molly's mind. The larger part of her mind was occupied with thought that Sherlock really was rather dashing in his tuxedo, as she walked toward him with the traditional bridal march playing.

He, in turn, could not take his eyes off of his blushing bride as she walked down the flower lined aisle towards him. Molly was radiant in her white gown and Sherlock immediately understood why the women had spent so many hours in dress shops looking for just the right dress. At the time he hardly understood why three fittings were necessary, but now that he saw her in the dress . . . well, he couldn't wait to help her out of it.

For Sherlock the morning before the wedding had been nerve-racking for. His only solace had been John. As he was busy wearing a hole into the floor, Sherlock pushed his hands through his hair. "You have the rings still?"

"Yes, for the tenth time Sherlock, I have the rings." John sighed from the chair he was currently sitting on.

"Stupid tradition. Why do people do that? Why did I do that?" Sherlock ranted.

John let him continue talking for a while and took the ring box from his suit jacket pocket to roll it over in his hands for a while. Then a thought popped into his mind that prompted him to break into Sherlock's running monologue. "Why was that girl at the rehearsal dinner?"

"What girl?" Sherlock asked pausing mid-stride and looking quizzically at John.

"Molly's maid of honor. Who is she?" John asked still staring at the box he was turning over in his hands.

"Mary Morstan." Sherlock answered, his face wrinkling up in distaste. "I don't much like her, but she is Molly's best friend. Why does it matter to you?" he paused for a second, eyes brightening from the high of a new deduction. "You fancy her." The teasing tone had John rolling his eyes and stuffing the ring box back in his pocket.

"So what if I do?" John's voice was defensive.

Sherlock was about to press the matter when the other groomsmen arrived. So he settled for an I-know-the-truth smile and turned toward the others.

The ceremony went off without a hitch; both mothers cried during the unity ceremony that was performed to symbolize the joining of two families into one, and then the two exchanged vows followed by the wedding bands. Then there was the moment that Molly would remember as clear as day for years to come. "You may now kiss the bride." The pastor announced to the waiting room as well as to the somewhat eager groom.

Without hesitation and with a confident smirk on his face Sherlock pulled Molly in for a solid, knee-weakening kiss that hardly lasted two seconds, if that. "Congratulations Mrs. Molly Holmes." Sherlock whispered as he pulled away from her. His smirk had grown into an impossibly wide smile that filled his face from ear to ear that Molly did not hesitate to mirror.

After the ceremony there was a thirty minute lapse of time until the reception, exactly as planned. This was just enough time for the wedding party to move to the reception hall from the chapel, and to take several formal pictures together.

Molly was relieved that the day was relatively stress free. She had been nervous before the ceremony. What if something went wrong? What if Sherlock lost his bow tie, or John lost the rings? The only think she didn't worry about, was the idea that Sherlock might leave her at the altar. She knew he would be there no matter what, so as soon as she saw Sherlock as she was walking down the aisle she knew everything was going to be just fine. That, added to her mother's kind words, calmed her.

The reception was lovely and everyone seemed to enjoy it, even Molly. Even though by the time the reception line had started her feet were killing her in the shoes. She could tell Sherlock was not fond of greeting everyone in the line, but he was a sport about it. He even managed to keep his mouth shut when Tiffany Miller came through the line. She was the teen who was most well-known to the neighborhood boys and that was all her choice, but according to Sherlock she had picked up an older boyfriend this time. Usually Sherlock would have pointed this out and made a snarky comment in some way, but he seemed to know Molly would not approve.

Once the line had ended, Molly was glad to be able to sit through the dinner that was spread out before the guests as well as the bridal party.

The cake cutting took place right after dinner, and Molly had managed to get cake all over Sherlock's face. She acted like it was an accident, but it had been too tempting. It would have been so easy to not cause a scene, but Molly had never been so formal.

And after she had opened up the floodgate so to speak, she could see the playfulness in Sherlock's eyes and knew exactly what was coming. He moved so quickly that Molly only just had enough time to close her eyes before at least half of her face was covered in the cake. Everyone was laughing by this point including Molly as Mrs. Holmes showed up at her side with a linen napkin to try and wipe off her face.

After everyone had their fair share for the cake the best man, John, had his traditional speech prepared to kick off the festivities. John honestly didn't remember much about his speech, but he was sure he wished the newlyweds a happy wedding and a marvelous honeymoon.

He did notice that Mary seemed to be watching him throughout the entire time he was talking. She had this strange tendency to roll her eyes at every three words or so. And of course this confused John to no end.

The toasts altogether took up nearly an hour but it hardly seemed long enough when the dancing started. Mrs. Hooper had insisted that Molly wear high heels so that she was nearer to Sherlock's height and it had been hard for Molly to learn how to dance in them. They had taken formal lessons in the months before the wedding and as soon as the dance instructor heard the words high and heels together her eyes lit up in the way that Molly quickly came to refer to as the "evil glint."

The lessons had been long and difficult for Molly. She had never really been much for dancing. Jumping around her room in time to music sure, but this was much different. Sherlock took to it naturally though and Molly thought it was just to spite her before she learnt that he had taken lessons when he was younger.

She was glad to have him there because he not only gave her the confidence to work with the dance instructor, but on several occasions he had to practically hold her up as she tripped over her own feet. The first time that had happened Sherlock immediately reacted by pulled Molly closer to him and holding her up with a soft "I've got you." Molly was pretty sure she heard the dance instructor sigh at that.

She supposed the lessons paid off in the end though because when their first dance as a couple was announced she was able to take the dance floor with almost as much confidence as Sherlock. It was lucky that he had the lion's share of confidence however because without him leading the waltz they had picked out Molly was certain something would have gone horribly wrong.

Sherlock seemed eager to have the reception over with however and almost objected when Molly wanted to stay on the dance floor for a while after the other traditional dances such as the father-daughter dance.

Over all, everything had been perfect for the day and as the guests said their goodbyes Molly tried to say something different to everyone. The presents were loaded into vehicle that would transport them to the new flat that Molly and Sherlock shared in London. All of the gifts could be taken care of after the honeymoon so both the bride and groom's parents had seen that everything would be taken to the flat for now.

All of the guests except for the closest family had left when Molly and Sherlock tucked themselves into the limo. It would take them to the hotel next to the airport that they would stay at until their flight later the next day to Hawaii.

The ride to the hotel was only a mostly quiet one. On both sides kisses were stolen and enjoyed with increasing frequency and intensity. The driver thankfully was very professional, but had also seen many couples right after their weddings and considered these two fairly reserved.

The hotel was particularly grand, but Molly would later admit that she remembers very little about the hotel itself and only a little bit more about the room they had stayed in. One could say she was . . . otherwise occupied.

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**So here it is guys! The chapter you have all been waiting for I'm sure. This weeks chapter is specially dedicated to my beta who actually isn't on fanfiction but is really amazing anyway and also to Morbidmegz who I am sure you all know and love. Anyway fun fact I have never writen a wedding scene before as far as I can remember and I have NEVER written a main couple that is also married. So we will see how the next bit goes. Love you all and thanks for reading!**


	15. A Kiss On A Case

**Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to BBC's Sherlock or Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes or anything like that**

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Molly and Sherlock had both truly enjoyed their honeymoon. Whenever they left the hotel they found all sorts of adventures. Molly was fascinated by the culture, but also the shops that lined some of the beach streets, and by the other tourist attractions that were surrounding her. Sherlock most enjoyed the snorkeling that was offered and if he had been able to he would have gone scuba diving. However the United States required some form of licensing for that.

It all ended far too soon for both parties, and so packing the hotel room was difficult for them. Molly actually kept getting distracted and within the first five minutes of trying to pack Molly somehow ended up with several scarves around her head and not entirely sure where they came from. She had a beaded lei around her neck along with three plastic flowered leis. Then to top it all off Sherlock was following behind her re-packing everything in a way he said was more efficient.

It was more efficient, but that did not mean Molly didn't tease Sherlock about it. "Do you not like my packing?" She asked with a huge smile on her face.

"No, Mrs. Holmes. I like your packing just fine. I just think this way might be more effective." Sherlock was standing behind Molly as he said this and he wrapped his arms around her for a moment before working around her to repack the case she had just finished. After he finished with that task, he pulled her back and turned her to face him.

"Are you aware of exactly how many scarves you have wrapped around your head?" Sherlock asked as he reached up to carefully remove the scarves from her head.

Molly started giggling and shook her head, hindering Sherlock's efforts. She then attempted to reach up on order to help, but instead got her hands tangled into the scarves along with his.

This sent the two into a fit of laughter that bounced off the walls of the hotel room and had Molly folding in half. "Perhaps I ought to let you just do all the work." Molly choked out past her laugh.

"Yes, perhaps that is best." Sherlock smiled as he responded, and the concentrated on disentangling their hands and the scarves.

After that mess was settled Molly switched from trying to pack to making sure that they had not left anything behind the desk or under the bed. It only took Sherlock about five minutes to finish the packing and they were on their way to the airport in no time at all.

After hours first on one airplane and two layovers they finally arrived at the London airport. Molly was exhausted when they finally found a cab to take them home, and Sherlock had to make sure that she didn't fall over as they walked up the stairs.

Molly crashed almost immediately and was asleep before Sherlock could get her to the bed. He didn't mind though, and managed to mostly unpack the bags before he fell asleep next to his wife.

The next few days were relatively quiet for the couple as they settled into married life, but it did not take long for Sherlock to find himself a case. Lestrade phoned early on a Saturday morning with a recent string of murderers that had the Yard baffled. Sherlock eagerly took the case and was so excited that he only just managed to remember to kiss his wife on the cheek before rushing out of the door.

The next time Molly heard from Sherlock it was just past noon. She still had today and tomorrow off of work so when Sherlock called her she was in the kitchen of the flat fixing herself some lunch.

"Yes?" Molly asked as she answered her mobile phone. The caller id told her that it was Sherlock so she didn't need to bother with a standard greeting.

"I need you to attend dinner with me tonight. It is for a case. I picked out a dress for you, it should arrive by messenger soon." And with that the conversation was over.

Molly was surprised that she had received such a call from Sherlock, but figured that he would only ask for her help on a case if he really needed it. So she finished making and eating her lunch before showering.

She had only just gotten out of the shower and dressed as best she could without having the dress she was supposed to wear when the doorbell rang. Assuming that it was the messenger she pulled on the closest housecoat, one of Sherlock's, and answered the door. The young messenger looked vaguely familiar. Molly had to take a minute before she realized that he was the same messenger who brought her the chocolates on that Valentine's Day a few years ago.

"Delivery for a Mrs. Holmes." He announced as he handed over the clothing box.

"Thank you." Molly said with a small smile and took the parcel from him before stepping back into the flat to get dressed. Sherlock had not mentioned a specific time for her to be ready by, so she settled for being ready well before the time she normally prepared diner by.

The dress turned out to be far more extravagant that Molly had expected, but it was truly lovely and suited her better that even Sherlock had expected. The light pink, or more likely champagne colour made Molly's hair seem to shimmer and her skin glow. Sherlock had also included a small and elegant necklace that set off the neck line of the dress perfectly. How he managed to have a better fashion sense better than her she would never understand.

She didn't have long to wait before Sherlock appeared at their door and walked in with a bright smile his face.

"You look spectacular Molly." He said as he greeted her with a kiss pressed to her cheek.

"Thank you. You ought to go clean up yourself." Molly smiled back at her husband, he was always sweet, but sometimes seemed to forget that he had appearances to keep up.

He did as she suggested though and moved to the bedroom to clean up. He didn't make it all the way to the bedroom before turning back to Molly and pulling her close to him for a long, slow kiss that Molly felt all the way to her toes.

Once the kiss ended they stood together for as long as either of them could justify and stealing kiss after kiss before Molly managed to coax Sherlock into getting ready for the dinner he seemed so anxious for, by reminding him that he was trying to solve a case.

Molly was surprised to find out that rather that a high class restaurant like she had been expecting, they were going to an ambassador's party. The embassy was elegantly decorated and Molly remembered Sherlock explaining that it was the ambassador of France's daughter's eighteenth birthday, she hadn't thought much about it.

He had not explained why they were there exactly, but he had told her that they would not be assuming any false identities during the party. She was nervous about the idea of helping Sherlock on a case like this though. She could cut up dead bodies for him no problem, but to do investigation work with him was another matter entirely.

He did try his best to keep her calm, but in the end the best he could do was to keep a hold of her hand while they walked into the building. As they entered the party he felt her snake her arm around his waist and pull closer to him. He in turn covered her shoulders with his arm and held her close.

She relaxed as the night went on and by the end of the first hour she only just noticed when Sherlock left her side to talk to one of the men across the room from her.

She was talking with the mother of the birthday girl for a little while as Sherlock took his time gathering information. She had always been a little awkward in high class situations because she never really felt like she fit in. However, this time Sherlock had made sure that she looked and felt the part. Besides, no one should ever doubt the power of a good set of high heels.

By the end of the party Sherlock had figured out exactly who the culprit of the murders was thanks to the slight callouses on the heel of his hand. When he announced to the waiting D.I. Lestrade later that night that it was the cook hired by the ambassador everyone was surprised.

Molly's favourite part of the evening however, was the fact that there was a danceing. She had not had a chance to dance with Sherlock since their wedding reception and even though that had not been too long ago she loved to spend the time in his arms anyway.

They spent the better part of the evening on the dance floor and Sherlock seemed to know just how much Molly was enjoying the evening.

"This has been lovely Sherlock." Molly said in thanks as they twirled around the floor to a recently popular slow song.

"I thought you would enjoy it." Sherlock answered, his voice just loud enough to be heard over the music. "Strictly speaking I did not need you here, but I wanted you here. I wanted you here with me tonight more than anything." Sherlock admitted.

To Molly's way of thinking he might as well have declared his undying love for her, never mind that they were already married, and so she reacted without thinking, pulling him down towards her so that their lips met in a sound kiss.

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**Hey guys! So this chapter is coming a little bit late, but here it is! Also, I know what I want to do for next week, but I need your help deciding where I want the story to go. So there is a poll on my profile. Please do check it out and vote, I need your help. :) I hope you enjoyed the chapter!**


	16. A Kiss For The Baby

**Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to BBC's Sherlock or Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes or anything like that.**

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A year into their marriage Sherlock and Molly were comfortable both in their home and working relationships. Although, the first time that Sherlock had come into the morgue while working on a case had been awkward for the both of them. Sherlock, never really having cared about what others thought, believed that greeting Molly with a kiss was more than appropriate no matter who –dead or alive – was in the room. Molly was far more hesitant however and was sure that any real PDA was inappropriate. The differences in opinion did make for a rather awkward time, but they eventually talked it out.

The longer they were married the more they learnt that married life suited them both. A routine was quickly established; whoever woke up first, usually Sherlock, was in charge of making coffee. Then as they woke up on lazy mornings they would have a lie in until the sun could no longer be ignored. Then they would take turns showering, or possibly share the shower depending on Molly's work schedule. If neither of them were working that day then they would fill their time with ordinary household tasks like dusting and laundry in the mornings and long walks in the park near their house in the afternoon. There were other things that occupied their attention also of course, and all and all it was a good first year.

About a month after their one year anniversary Molly waited until Sherlock had left for New Scotland Yard to meet John and DI Lestrade, then she practically locked herself into the bathroom. She had suspected for the last two weeks, but now she needed to be sure. As she opened the box her hands shook, Could she handle it if she was wrong? Could Sherlock handle it if she was right? They had talked about children of course, but more as a possible eventuality, but not seriously. So if Molly was right and she was pregnant she didn't know how either of them would react.

Exactly three minutes later she knew. She was so shocked that her knees gave out and she sank down onto the toilet seat. She really was pregnant. She wanted to call Sherlock and tell him immediately, but he was on a case, so she would wait for him to come home. He had said the case was only a six though and that he ought to be home in time for lunch. Molly decided to make a nice lunch for the two, well three now, of them with a nice curry and maybe some chicken.

Sherlock, with impeccable timing, walked through the front door just as Molly was pulling the chicken from the stove so that it wouldn't burn. He was quiet as he walked into the kitchen and he knew that she had not heard him so he surprised her by wrapping his arms around her waist and pressing a light kiss to the top of her head.

"Sherlock!" Molly jumped and spun around to face him. "You don't make any noise do you?!" She mock scolded him, but the smile on her face told him that she wasn't really mad at him.

"Sorry." He apologized, even though she knew that he was just saying that to be nice. "How was your day?"

Molly smiled in response, she would tell him later. "Lunch is ready. Why don't we eat?" Within minutes the two were settled in and enjoying the meal.

In fact Sherlock seemed to be truly enjoying the food which was unusual and made Molly laugh. "Guess the case was more difficult than you thought. You seem to be enjoying your meal." Molly observed.

Sherlock paused halfway through a mouthful of food and looked up at Molly, eventually swallowing his food with a comically cartoonish gulp. "Yes." Then he paused, really looking over Molly for a moment. "But you have something to tell me don't you. I can read it in your face."

Molly sighed; well she would have sighed if she herself hadn't been in the middle of a mouthful of food. She had planned to tell him after they had finished eating, maybe if she could get him to cuddle with her on the couch or something, but she supposed now would be as good a time as any. Before she spoke she set down her fork and pushed her chair away from the table a little bit so that she could really face Sherlock. Was there a right way to do this? She figured there wasn't and decided that it might be best to dive right in.

"I'm pregnant." She said with a nervous smile.

The following silence in the room made Molly wonder if perhaps she had gone deaf. All she could hear was the blood being pumped through her own veins faster and faster as her heartbeat increased. The seconds ticked by as eternities for Molly. Then the spell was broken as Sherlock's phone alerted him of a new text.

Almost as soon as Sherlock had read the text he was rushing out of the door, off to solve another case. At the last second though, as if it was almost an afterthought, he turned, crossed the floor to the kitchen table where Molly was still sitting. Carefully he pulled her out of her chair and to her feet, the looking her in the eye for a moment he ducked down and kissed her. He left her in the middle of the kitchen with little more than his whisper. "I love you Molly Holmes."

In hindsight Sherlock realized that he had rushed from the house. He justified it with the fact that there really was a very brutal murder according to the text that DI Dimmock had sent him, but he knew that part of it was also him running away.

He knew that they had talked about children, and he knew that eventually that Molly would get pregnant. They had planned for it, more or less, but now that is had happened there were so many doubts running though his head. There was simply no evidence for what kind of father he might be. What if he was rubbish at parenting? He hadn't grown up in the coldest of households, but he hadn't grown up in the warmest home either. The number of possible mistakes that he could make, even in the first year of the child's life, numbered high enough that even he didn't think about enumerating them.

Ten minutes after receiving the text message Sherlock was at the crime scene. Three minutes later D.I. (_Dimwit)_ Dimmock had the information he needed to find the murderer. Another fifteen minutes and Sherlock was standing outside of his friend's flat. All but banging on the door with his need to talk to someone.

John had moved to London two months ago. He had tried his hand at the army, but apparently it had disagreed with him before he even finished boot camp, and now he worked at a surgery in London when he wasn't helping Sherlock with a case.

Sherlock had expected to wake John from a nap or something when he arrived at the door, but the commotion from inside the flat was not what he expected. The door was just thin enough and the conversation on the other side of the door was just loud enough that Sherlock could hear most of it.

"I thought you said you weren't expecting anyone." A woman, interesting. Then a muffled thump, maybe someone tripping over something.

"I'm not!" John, very aggravated.

"Well, go see who it is and send them away." The woman again and then footsteps and then a quieter more muffled sentence. Something about hiding and bedroom is all he heard.

He started counting after the last comment that he heard, an old habit that dated back to when he was really little. Forty-five seconds later John opened his flat door and rolled his eyes.

"Sherlock, I'm busy, this had better be important." John was rightly annoyed, but Sherlock had to smile as John's rumpled hair and wrinkled shirt told him everything.

"Yes, well I am sure that your new girlfriend will be willing to forgive you for helping out a friend in distress." Sherlock's voice was its usual hard tone, but something in his expression told John that Sherlock was falling apart inside.

"Five minutes, you can explain in five minutes. Let me go talk to Mary." John sighed in a way that gave Sherlock the immediate impression that a root canal was preferable to talking to Mary.

The name was immediately caught by Sherlock's mind and conjured images of a stubborn blonde who hated John and huffed angrily at him all through the wedding. He was about to brush off the images, figuring that could not be the same Mary that had been among Molly's bridesmaids, when he was proven very wrong. There in front of Sherlock stood the exact woman from his memories. She was dressed more casually then she had been at the wedding obviously, and her hair –despite her best efforts - was still in a disarray, but it was definitely her.

She huffed her way out of the flat and John walked over to his chair sitting down heavily. "So what's wrong?" He asked.

"Molly is pregnant." The voice that answered John's question did not sound like Sherlock any more. It sounded like a broken man, someone who was lost, and that confused Joh.

"That's a good thing isn't it? I mean you are married, it is normal to start a family." John watched his friend carefully as he spoke. Sherlock had found his way to the couch opposite John and was sitting there with his hands steeple and covering his face.

"It is good, but . . ." Sherlock suddenly jumped up and became increasingly agitated as he paced back and forth in front of the couch.

John suddenly understood what Sherlock was getting at. "You are worried."

An immediate silence fell on the room like a blanket dropped over someone's head, very quickly and totally muffling. Sherlock froze in place and John watched, waiting for his friend's reaction. After an excruciatingly long five seconds everything seemed to explode around Sherlock, leaving the air crackling with a sort of electricity.

"Of course I am worried!" Sherlock maybe wasn't fully yelling, but he was loud enough. "While my parents were adequate, Molly's parents were much more than that, and I am certain that she will be expecting that same level of parenting."

The speech continued for a good five minutes and John sat as patiently as he could and listened half-heartedly to a list of reasons why Sherlock would not make a good parent. The list was mostly rubbish however and enumerated reasons such as the fact that he didn't always remember what day of the week it was – a downside to be sure, but hardly the end of the world. Once Sherlock was finally finished he seemed to slowly deflate like the air being let out of a balloon by a child so that is makes funny noises.

"You all done then?" John asked.

"Yes." Sherlock's voice was as week and broken as before. He almost sounded like a child himself now.

"Most of the reasons you just listed were rubbish and you know it." John was as eloquent as ever and Sherlock huffed out a breath in response. "Seriously Sherlock, no one knows how to be a parent until they are one. Why am I the one giving you advice anyway? I'm not even married yet."

"You are right." Sherlock replied, shocking his friend into silence before showing himself out of the door.

Then before Sherlock knew it he was out on the street hailing a cab and then back at the door to his home, the space he shared with Molly. He had been gone far longer than he thought, several hours in fact, but he was still surprised to find Molly curled up asleep on the couch and fast asleep. She didn't look at all comfortable and had her arms wrapped around her stomach as if protecting the very young child she was now playing host to. Her expression was pained as well and she was fidgety.

Figuring she would be more comfortable in their bed her carefully gathered her into his arms and carried her into the bedroom. As he did this Molly stirred and woke only enough that she could register what was going on around her, if groggily. "Sherlock? Are you mad? The baby." Molly tried to get out a complete sentence, but was too tired.

"Shh." Sherlock soothed her and set her on the bed before smoothing back her hair and pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "I can never be mad. Now rest. I will join you soon."

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**Wow guys! So this is the last "official" chapter. There will be a sort of epilogue after this that I will post either tonight or tomorrow depending on how I feel. It's been a wild ride. Thanks for reading!**


	17. A Kiss On The Nose & A Kiss For The Girl

**Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to BBC's Sherlock or Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes or anything like that.**

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Twenty-six weeks after Molly told Sherlock the good news the nursery was almost complete and Mary had taken up her social duty as Molly's best friend by throwing her a baby shower. Both expectant parents were increasingly nervous and excited about the arrival of their child and soon found that there was more to learn about children than they ever could have expected.

Two weeks after Molly had told Sherlock the good news John Watson had some news of his own. He had gathered the courage to ask Mary Morstan to marry him, and she had said yes.

That is how twenty-four weeks later Molly had managed to squeeze herself into a maternity style bridesmaid dress and played matron of honor at her best friend's wedding. Sherlock was best man and no one but John knew that Molly had written the best man speech and threatened Sherlock with the idea of having to sleep on the couch if he deviate from the script but so much as one word.

Both the wedding and reception were lovely and went off without a single hitch. Molly and Sherlock spent as much of the night dancing together as her feet would allow and the rest of the night they stayed nearby each other.

The reception ended around half past ten and Molly was thoroughly exhausted. So Sherlock made their excuses to the newlyweds, who couldn't seem to take the smiles off of their faces, and helped his very pregnant wife into a cab.

The ride was short enough that Molly didn't have enough time to fully fall asleep, but she did go into a somewhat comatose state for the ride. She stirred herself just enough to climb the stairs, although she needed Sherlock's help anyway, but then fell fully clothed on the bed.

He did the best he could to make her comfortable, but there was little more Sherlock could do than to take of Molly's shoes for her and cover her with a blanket. There was nothing more he wanted to do that to lay down on the bed next to her and sleep, but there was work to be done on his newest case so he settled for leaning over her and pressed his lips first to her forehead, then each closed eyelid, and finally to the tip of her nose with a whispered goodnight.

* * *

February 5th at 13:43 Elizabeth Marie Holmes was born at a healthy three and a half kilograms. There had been no complications with her birth and her parents fell in love with her the second that she was placed in Molly's arms by the nurse.

It didn't take long for both mother and daughter to be declared healthy and released from the hospital. Sherlock did everything he could to make sure that both of his girls were as safe as possible and had them both settled in for a well-deserved nap.

Three months later Elizabeth was hardly sleeping through the night, but both of her parents had worked out a system to take care of her. With her away for the first time of the night at 00:30 Molly was already asleep, but Sherlock was up and spent some time with her. Lizzybeth, as Molly affectionately called her, had been in need of a diaper change but was now calmed down.

With her head cradled on his chest she seemed to be teething on his shirt, leaving a dark stain on his grey nightshirt, but he didn't mind a bit. He talked to her for a while, not about a case but about the elements that he had loved since he was old enough to remember. He didn't know what the future held for his tiny daughter, but he hoped she would love whatever she did. Right now what she did love though was his voice and it only took ten minutes before she was fast asleep once again and he gently pressed a kiss to the top of his daughter's head before placing her back in her crib.

* * *

**This is it, the end. I'm kind of sad, but at the same time excited to be moving on to new things! This is the only time you will hear me say this probably but if you are on tumblr or twitter feel free to look me up. (I have the same username) I love to talk to you guys to and I love you all. This chapter is specially dedicated to everyone who has been with me since I first put up chapter one. (you know who you are.) 3**


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